


Finding Something Here

by Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln



Series: Just Keep Holding Onto Me [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 50,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5019742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln/pseuds/Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following each chapter of Maze Runner, this multi-chapter work will follow Newt and Thomas and a love they find in each other- and more importantly, how they uphold it over time. </p><p>***This is a very special request from DattebayoLunaGinny, and a very long one! I really hope anyone who reads sticks with it, despite the length! And for those who don't want to commit to a large work, worry not, I'll post one-shots here and there~ Basically, this work will follow each chapter of each book of the series; but with Newtmas thrown in. Enjoy, please and buckle up for the ride!***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One/Two

**Author's Note:**

> (I ask that you read the second half of the summary for all you need to know!) -I will separate the books within different multi-chapter works, one at a time :)-
> 
> And for shorter chapters, I might combine two or three of em! *I DO NOT own Maze Runner, or any of the amazing characters Dashner created!!*

His ascend stuffed inside this dark, small room seemed to last forever. 

After the initial fear and utter panic died down just a bit, and some of the frustration had eased at not being able to remember something, thoughts of where he was about to end up crept in on him, sending a sinister chill up his spine like a spider crawling up his back. 

"Thomas," he mumbled aloud. His name, he held tight to his only memory- it was so precious and delicate, he feared that if he didn't recite it regularly it would slip away. But it didn't, it seemed solid. 

Eventually, just as the panic was starting to return in shuddering fits of sudden cold sweat and the occasional shiver, his mobile room lurched. Thomas' eyes widened, almost knocked to his feet by the abrupt halt of motion. He looked around, running his hands along the walls to find an exit, a window, anything. With no success, he looked up just in time to be blinded by the thin line of sudden light forming. 

He shielded his eyes as he watched it expand, voices and somewhat familiar smells- grass, animals, sweat, dirt- flooded in the new opening. Thomas couldn't move, fear anchoring him to his place. He didn't know what to expect, who he was going to see; Hell, he didn't even know who he was. Yet, when a rope was dropped down before him he reached for it; whether it be a lifeline or a death sentence, it was something. 

He gripped it tightly as it was tugged upwards. The moment he was out of his former prison, hands gripped him- several pairs- and began pulling him to his feet. Once he was steady, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brilliant sunlight. So many boys, so many new sights and smells and emotions, it was overwhelming. He looked around as he heard someone say; "Nice to meet ya, shank. Welcome to the Glade." 

Thomas swung towards the voice, towards the boys closest to him. A tall, dark-skinned and definitely intimidating boy stood, arms crossed. And his complete opposite; a short, chubby curly-haired kid, awfully young, watching Thomas with a nervous excitement. Thomas flicked his eyes to the last boy, tall and lanky, angular jaw and eyes firm. Thomas found himself stuck on him, something about him made it impossible to turn away. Despite the blond boy's indifferent expression, his features seemed soft, friendly even. 

Thomas' staring didn't last long. Boys started talking, arguing among each other, calling him things like "Greenie" "green-bean" "shank", and "shuck-faced". Insults and sarcastic comments thrown his way, left and right. A couple would make a comment and the dark-skinned boy shut them right up. He figured that was their leader. 

Once some of the commotion died down, Thomas began asking questions. The leader shot him down, explaining all his questions would be answered during a "Tour" the following day. Thomas was disappointed. The leader didn't seem like the nicest, and maybe that was why his instincts told him not to shake his hand when he offered. But his name, the leader's, was Alby. 

Thomas was so confused, his head hurt, too many people and things he didn't understand and definitely not enough answers. However, when the blond boy offered his hand, Thomas couldn't keep his away. "Name's Newt, Greenie." 

Thomas felt the inexplicable urge to hold onto Newt's hand- this boy seemed nicer, so much so he seemed like a shelter; the only thing he felt safe standing beside here. But he released when Newt did, dropping his hand to his side, not sure what to do with it now. That small moment of calm didn't last as Alby (attempted) to give a brief introduction- Thomas spat out questions as he did so. Getting no answers. That seemed to be a trend here. 

Before Thomas knew it, he had pushed his luck and Alby snapped on him. For some reason, Thomas looked to Newt for help. There's was real sympathy in Newt's eyes, but he didn't do anything beyond it. Nothing really happened, Alby released him and stormed off, leaving Thomas and Newt and the thinning crowd of boys. 

Thomas was frustrated and confused and felt like screaming, crying and punching someone all at the same time. Newt assured him with a clasp of his shoulder that everyone had felt this before. Thomas tried to calm down, not wanting to snap at Newt. Newt was genuine and, so far, the only boy he wanted to be around. 

As if that was jinxed, Newt had to go help someone in the "Homestead". He had instructed Thomas to find Chuck, but he'd be damned if he was going to do that. He rushed off to a secluded tree and sat against its trunk, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions tearing up his mind. Everything was a mess, everything was confusing. Alby was frustrating and confusing, Newt was distracting and friendly- and Thomas' fondness of the boy just increased his confusion. 

Quietly, Thomas sat there, rubbing his eyes persistently. All the things he wanted to think about were impossible to find, and all the things he didn't want to think about were impossible to lose. 

Thomas wasn't sure where to place Newt in said categories.


	2. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just got back from seeing The Scorch Trials!! Very good :) 
> 
> Anywho, forgive me if the next few chapters are somewhat haphazardly thrown together; there isn't much Newt in them which makes Newtmas a liiiiiittle difficult to accomplish XD

Just as the chaos in his head actually was starting to calm, someone approached him.

He flicked his eyes up where the chubby little boy he had seen earlier stood. Thomas' attention was stolen by a sudden clicking above him. When he glanced at the tree above him, a wave of blurred red and silver smeared within the shadow of the thick leaves. Momentarily terrified, he scrambled to his feet.

"Beetle Blade," the boy explained, reminding Thomas he was there.

"What?..." he asked worriedly.

"Just don't touch it, won't do nothin' to ya." he explained, barely getting the words out before a piercing scream from where Newt had disappeared to.

A quick wave of panic rushed over him, "What's happening there?"

"Ben," the young boy said, "he's real sick. They got him."

"They?" Thomas asked, turning worriedly at the boy.

Chuck shook his head, dismissing the question, "Name's Chuck," he said in a friendly tone, holding out his hand.

Thomas shook it, trying not to let the suspicion of how well of a guide this kid was going to be show on his face. Another scream ripped through the air and Thomas' sense sharpened in a panic. Straightening up, he stared worriedly at the Homestead, hoping the boys had it handled. Hoping Newt was okay in there.

"Ben got the serum in time; he'll be fine," Chuck said, "not dyin', just hurtin'."

"Wait, hurts?" he asked, looking to Chuck, "what hurts?" he asked.

"Getting stung by a Griever," he said, as if he had to think about it for a moment.

Thomas was sure his head was going to explode if he heard one more thing he didn't understand. Apparently Chuck didn't care, cause he offered no further explanation. Thomas figured there was no point pressing a kid who seemed to know little more than he did, "Hey Chuck, how old do you think I am?" he asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Sixteen, it looks like," he said, adding a couple more brief details.

Thomas was at a loss for words. How could he have not know anything Chuck had just told him?...

Shaking his head, not paying attention to Chuck rambling on about something, he started towards the Homestead. He wanted to see what was up with this Ben kid; and seeing Newt- someone who made some sense, sort of- would be nice. He could hear Chuck hobbling behind. The sudden change of smell took Thomas by surprise inside the poorly-put-together building.

There was a small group of boys gathered inside when he entered. "Hey look, it's the Greenbean," one of the older ones commented rudely.

"Name's Thomas," Thomas spat coldly as he started up the stairs.

Out of nowhere, the same ugly bully stepped forward. "Not allowed to go up there, not while someone's going through The Changing." he said, nodding up the stairs.

Anger flared in the pit of Thomas' stomach, "I just want to talk somebody," he growled.

The kid glared, "I've seen you before, Greenie. I know something's up with you, and I'll be damned if I don't find out."

Thomas bit back some choice words and shook his head; they'd never met, there was no way this kid knew him. "If Newt went up there, then I want to talk to him." he spat simply.

The bully shook his head and moved out of the way, "Your funeral." he said through a gross sneer.

Thomas paused, looking up at the floor above as if it were a whole new world; and getting there was a great, and apparently forbidden, feat. "Go on up," Gally said, nodding upwards. 

Thomas' cheeks burned and he suddenly regretted coming here. But he did want to speak to Newt... Sucking in his breath and the courage trying to escape him, he started up. Each creak seemed to be a tick of a clock- counting down to his doom. He shook such a silly thought away; Newt was up there, nothing bad would happen. 

He hesitated for a moment, thinking it odd of himself to have so much faith in someone he'd known for about twenty, thirty minutes- and had only spoken to him for a very small fraction of that time. 

But damn, did he think about him. 

Gally- as he heard one of the other boys call the bully below- yelled something about the Changing after Thomas, but he paid it no mind. He made it to the top and found the closest door creaked open. From the angle he was at, he could see Newt kneeling over someone and his heart leaped at the sight of the blond boy; like he had just found salvation among the damned. 

He reached the door and peered inside, about to call for Newt, when he saw who- or what- he and Alby were knelt over. The boy, if you could call him that, was a dreadful sight. The image so horrific it burned into his mind, but seemed to be blocked out at the same time. Twisted, pale- Hell, green- patient, writhing and moaning and groaning some inhumanly. Veins covered him from head to toe- dark green and pulsing- accompanied with sprinkled dark bruises. 

The sight didn't last, suddenly it was being blocked out by Alby standing before him, marching towards him. Thomas didn't recoil, he was frozen in place, and he didn't beg Alby to go away either. He prayed the older boy would move him away from this. "What in the Hell ya doing up here, Greenie?" Alby roared. 

Thomas' darting eyes found Alby, staring at him unsteadily. He opened his mouth, so many thing he could of said, but all that came out was; "Newt...", barely even considerable to be a whisper. 

Alby's eyes burned, "Get the Hell out of here!" he yelled and his body lurched forward as if he was going to hit Thomas. 

But Newt had his hand on Alby and pushed him back, "Alby," he said softly but firmly, "Don't." 

Alby looked at Newt and huffed, calming. Newt nodded, "I'll walk him out, just watch Ben, I'll be back in a second," he said with a nod. 

Relief struck Thomas like a kick to the gut and when Alby walked away and Newt rested a hand on his shoulder, Thomas had to fight the urge to just melt into his touch. "Come on, Greenie," Newt said, leading him down the stairs. 

Gally and the others jeered and snickered, throwing insults and taunts his way as he and Newt descended down the stairs. Newt gave them a look and they turned away, trying to act like Newt wasn't the reason for it. "Get me out of here," Thomas whispered over to him. Newt nodded. 

And Newt did just that, leading him down the stairs and back outside where Chuck was waiting, looking nervous and anxious. Newt stopped once they made it outside and patted Thomas' back, "You okay?" 

Thomas nodded, not sure if he was lying. Newt nodded, "I gotta go, jus' be careful." he warned. 

Thomas watched him go with an explainable longing for him to return. If Thomas didn't know better, he would've shouted for Newt to come back and stay; pleaded for it. Chuck seemed to notice Thomas wasn't doing so well, "Come on, let's go get you some food from Frypan." 

"I don't think I can eat," he mumbled, turning away from the awful house. Well, maybe not so awful. 

"You'll eat," Chuck said confidently, "meet at the tree; ten minutes?" 

Thomas nodded, half eager to get the Hell away from there and half filled with an irrational yearning to go back inside. In the end, fear won over whatever it was against and he started towards the tree. He plopped in front of the tree with a long, frustrated sigh. So many things he didn't understand; The Changing, Gally, this place, their language, Grievers, being "stung". 

And there was only one thing he didn't understand and /wanted/ to understand. 

Newt.


	3. Chapter Four/Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY AN UPDATE ON THIS TOOK SO LONG. We're trying to get moved and have horses, sooo it's been chaotic. But I'm going to start (unfortunately, MAYBE not today) posting at least two chapters of this everyday and then one or two one-shots as well. I don't want people to lose interest in this because of lack of updating!! 
> 
> *I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!!*

Thomas scanned the Glade as he waited for Chuck to bring food. Still, just as he had told that boy, he wasn't hungry. 

As shadows found their way over the Glade with the setting sun, Thomas took it all in. The whole, dreadful mass of this place. Just when he started calming down from pure distraction, Chuck came back that way with an armful of sandwiches, apples, and water for the two of them. 

The moment Thomas took a bite, he suddenly felt starving. He started digging in, muttering thanks through satisfied groans. Chuck laughed, "I knew you'd be hungry." 

The two boys ate, the weather calm; things seemed okay at the moment. And it was a long-shot, but with Chuck and Newt and whatever else, Thomas thought that maybe- just maybe- he could grow to somewhat fond of this place. 

That was, of course, until the doors started closing. 

At first, Thomas thought it was an earthquake from the sheer sound. An awful grumbling and grinding of hard stone dragging in an endless cry. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and pressed against his ears, dizzying him. He thought it would last forever, but somewhat abruptly, the doors slammed into each other. They were closed. 

For a moment, claustrophobia took its hold on Thomas and he did what he could to keep his breaths normal. 

"Calm down, Greenie, you're fine," Chuck said, not even giving the walls a second glance. 

Thomas sighed, long and exasperated. "Come on," Chuck said, getting to his feet, "we should head to bed." 

Thomas thought about the Homestead; Gally and the smell and the screaming boy who was "Changing". He wanted to protest, but before he knew it, Chuck was tugging on his sleeve, "Come on, when nightmares hit, you wanna be in bed." 

Hesitantly, he swallowed down his feelings and followed. 

 

Luckily, Chuck had picked a spot outside behind the Homestead. It was cozy. A somewhat blissful gift he would've liked to stay in, but Chuck was leading him off somewhere. "Where are we even going?" Thomas asked, doing what he could to gain a sense of normalcy. 

"You'll see! Stop asking questions!" the little chubby boy said with a giggle following. 

They came to a building, going around the back of it and stopping at a small, dusty window along the side of it. Thomas wasn't sure what the building was, but a soft light emanated from the small window and he could hear people within. "The bathrooms," he whispered before continuing, "I love doing this to people." 

"Doing what?" Thomas asked, weary of this. Something told him he should back out now. 

"Just shush and watch!"

Chuck climbed onto a wooden box and began lightly tapping on the window. Thomas frowned, not quite able to believe this was really happening. Chuck continued tapping until the window slid open; Thomas pressing himself against the wall in a panic. With an awful suddenness, Chuck jumped up, screaming madly. A loud crash came from the room, then a string of curses and threats. From a voice Thomas knew all too well; Gally. 

Thomas was going to say something, but Chuck was gone. Sprinting away from the building, leaving Thomas in an utter confused, frozen state. When the door opened though, squealing from being swung open so violently, life came back to Thomas' limbs and he started after Chuck. But it was too late. 

"Greenie!" Gally screamed, making Thomas stop in his tracks. 

"What the hell, shuck-face!?" he screamed, approaching fast, "you did that!?" 

Thomas didn't miss a beat; "Yeah- it was just a joke Gally." 

Gally's absolutely hateful and burning gaze lingered for a moment, "I saw you, Greenie," he growled before turning and storming off. 

Thomas stood, frustrated with Gally's absolute assholeness. Who gave him the right to act like king boss? "Sorry," Chuck said as he returned, "if I had known it was Gally, I wouldn't have." 

Part of Thomas wanted to be mad, but the look on Chuck's face was too sorrowful. He could see the guilt written all over him, "It's okay. That shank deserved it." he said, patting Chuck's shoulder. 

Chuck smiled a little, making Thomas feel better for some reason. "Come on, can we please go to bed now?" Thomas asked with a little laugh. 

Chuck nodded and led the way. On the way back, Thomas stared mostly at his feet. His entire mind felt tired, fried. This place, these people- it was overwhelming. Suddenly, he bumped into someone's shoulder rather hard, "Oh, I'm sorry!" he said, snapping his head up to see who he hit. 

Newt stood there and smiled, "It's fine, Greenie," he said, playfully shoving Thomas' shoulder, "but watch where you're going." and with that, he walked off. 

Suddenly, Thomas' mind was wired. Any notion of sleep left with Newt and his smile. Thomas' cheeks warmed for a second, thinking over the exchange. He shook it off and hurried to catch back up with Chuck who was already crawling into his sleeping bag, looking at Thomas. 

"What?" Thomas asked, slipping into his own. 

Chuck gave a slight grin, lighting up his chubby face, "Nothin'." 

Thomas frowned and followed the boy's eyes as they moved off; landing on Newt as he limped through the Glade, seeming to be checking on everyone. It wasn't long before he disappeared from view. Even after he was gone, Thomas stared, irrationally hoping he'd wander back this way. 

He snapped out of it when Chuck slapped him on the leg, "Stop gawking, Greenie. The chances of you talking to him anymore- unless they're little mishaps like that- are low." 

Thomas' entire face felt hot, on fire. "What are you talking about!?" Thomas said, shocked at how defensive his voice sounded. 

Chuck smirked, "I ain't talking about nothin' shank," Chuck said, laying down, "but just so ya know- no judgement." 

Thomas stared at Chuck for a moment, as if staring would defend him. If anything, it made matters worse. Thomas huffed and laid down, turning his back on Chuck. What a stupid kid; thinking he LIKED Newt like that. How could he think that? It was crazy. 

... But Thomas still felt better knowing Chuck wouldn't judge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just HAD to thrown in that Newt moment XD Just had to. I couldn't let the entire chapter go without.


	4. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another couple chapters, guys. Enjoy ^^
> 
> *I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, we're getting somewhere now >:3 Hope y'all enjoyed~

Someone shook Thomas awake. Startled, he flashed his eyes open and tried to sit up, but a hand on his shoulder slowed him. When his eyes found those unmistakable eyes, Thomas felt his heart skip a beat. Newt smiled, "Shh, you're gonna wake Chuck. Follow me, Greenie," he said, releasing him and standing him up.

Thomas didn't think twice as he shot up after him.

"I'm supposed to show ya somethin' before wake-up," he said, pausing so Thomas could walk beside him. Thomas had to talk himself into it, almost too nervous to be right next to him.

Newt had told him to stay close and Thomas took absolute advantage of it. He walked so close beside him that their hands brushed once or twice. Thomas recoiled in embarrassment every time, but Newt didn't seem to mind. They weaved their way through the sleeping Gladers, Thomas stepping on one's hand and earning himself a punch to the leg.

Out of nowhere, once they had gone beyond sleeping boys, Newt sprinted off towards one of the walls. It took Thomas a moment to get his bearings, absolutely shocked he could run that fast with his limp. Soon though, something fluttered in his chest and a wide smile found his face as he sprinted after him. There was just something so rebellious and spontaneous about this kid, Thomas couldn't keep up. And he liked it.

Newt was fast with his limp, but Thomas was faster. He was soon able to match Newt's pace and they ran side-by-side. The moment Newt stopped, standing before one of the massive walls, Thomas did. Lights flickered and danced along the surface of it, "What are those?" Thomas whispered.

"You'll know when ya bloody need to know, Greenie," Newt said. But unlike when other people said that sort of thing to him, Newt's carried no malice. Nearing a joking tone, even.

Thomas didn't even feel frustrated with Newt's stubborn comment, "Well what's the point of dragging me around and not giving me any answers? ... Shank." he added thoughtfully, not sure if he should use the term on Newt.

Apparently it was okay, because Newt laughed, making Thomas' heart jump and steal his breath as it went. "I like you Greenie, now let me show you somethin'."

Thomas' cheeks burned and butterflies swarmed in his stomach at the small, casual compliment. He watched as Newt grabbed some hanging ivy on the wall and parted it, surprising Thomas when a little dust and worn window appeared. He walked over, standing behind Newt. Once again, his cheeks burned as he could feel the warmth radiating from Newt. Thomas even dared moving a bit closer; so much so that when Newt shifted occasionally, Newt's back and shoulders brushed against Thomas' chest. He couldn't help but puff it out, doing his best attempt at showing off.

"What should I be looking at?" Thomas whispered, peering through the dark window.

"Shh, just wait, Greenie!" Newt said, "one'll be showin' up here soon."

That comment slightly unnerved him and he nervously trained his eyes back on the window. Then it changed; eerie color spilling through the fogged window, casting a soft glow on Newt's face. The sight would've been absolutely beautiful and memorizing if the sudden appearance of the color didn't terrify Thomas. "I'm showin' ya the maze, Greenie. Everything we do revolves 'round this damn thing- tryin' to solve the bloody thing. An' it's my job to show ya why it's nothin' to mess 'round with," he looked back at Thomas, eyes staring at him in a curious mixture of pity and warning. 

Thomas took that as his cue to focus on the window. Despite the difficulty of taking his eyes off Newt, he peered inside. Suddenly, something other than Newt took his breath away. A large, awful, bulbous creature awaited on the other side. Some grotesque hybrid of machine and creature. It's shapeless blob of a body slid and scooted around near the opposite wall, then suddenly it slammed right up against the glass. 

Thomas shrieked and, before he could stop himself, he wrapped his arms around Newt's waist and yanked him back a couple feet from the window in a useless attempt to protect him from danger, stealing the sole purpose of the window. Thomas almost took Newt off his feet in the process and the shorter boy gripped Thomas' hands in an almost-panic. 

Thomas stood, motionless as the ivy curtains fell; obscuring the horrors the window presented as if they were never even there. As his breathing steadied, he realized he was still holding Newt right up against him. And Newt was still holding his hands. Newt looked over his shoulder back at Thomas. And unless Thomas was mistaken, the boy seemed somewhat nervous. Embarrassed. 

Thomas cleared his throat and released him. Newt spun on heels, turning to face Thomas. Thomas was about to blurt out an apology when Newt changed the subject, "Those're Grievers," he explained, a brief unevenness in his voice. He cleared it away quickly. 

Thomas nodded, trying to keep his mind off the hope that came from how quickly Newt changed the subject. That was either a very good thing or a really not-so-good one. Thomas thought about mentioning his odd want to become a Runner, but decided maybe now- after he shrieked like a coward and tried to protect Newt from an nonthreatening threat- wasn't the best time. He couldn't figure out why the desire still remained after that, but it did. 

"So now ya know what's out there. And now ya know what ya gotta do to help us out." Newt said with a nod. 

"What's that?" he asked, studying the newly visible features on Newt's flawless face as dawn lightened. 

"Survive, Greenie." Newt made a fist and lightly tapped Thomas' chest with it, "all hands on deck." 

***

With the arrival of the sun came the miserable disappearance of Newt. He missed his company the moment it was gone. 

He had had so much hope this morning; hope of getting closer to the boy. He fought off the thoughts of just how close, but close nonetheless. But now, sitting alone on some bench, having just watched the doors open with Chuck and Newt off in the Homestead, caring for the sick boy- it was starting to dwindle. One day. One day to have Newt around for at least most of it would be more than amazing. 

"Did he break your heart already?" Chuck asked teasingly through a mouthful of food. 

Thomas shot Chuck a look, "Shush." he spat, going back to picking absently at his eggs. 

Chuck laughed a little, "I'm just playin'! I mean," he started, seeming very careful about every word he chose, "if you had a chance with ANYONE here, Newt would probably be it." 

Some boys gave them weird looks as they walked past that part of the conversation. Once they walked off, Thomas kicked Chuck's leg under the table, careful not to hurt him, "Shut up, Chuck!" he said through his teeth, cheeks burning. 

Chuck giggled and, even though he was absolutely annoying, Thomas couldn't help but finding the child absolutely likable. It was hard to explain, he guess he was starting to love the kid- like you would a best friend or something. He thought about his love for Newt and how much more mature and complex it was than his love for Chuck. 

Thomas' face felt like it was on fire. "Love"? 

Then the "mature" part set in and Thomas buried his face in his hands. He heard Chuck laugh, then felt the boy's foot on his leg, "Look alive, your girlfriend's comin'." 

Thomas jolted up and looked over his shoulder, searching in a panic. When Chuck started cracking up, he realized Chuck was being an annoying little shit. Thomas looked over, trying to hold a glare, but a smirk managed to make it through, "Shut up!" Thomas said with more laugh than malice. 

They stopped when Alby walked over, "Alright Greenie," he said, crossing his arms, "time for the Tour." 

"Can I go?" Chuck asked eagerly. 

Alby pinched Chuck's ear, earning a shriek, "You've got a job, get on with it." he said sternly. 

Chuck frowned, "Have fun," he said, turning to Thomas. 

An irrational frustration towards Alby and sympathy towards Chuck flooded over him and he nodded to his friend, "I'll try." 

He and Alby walked away, anticipation spreading over Thomas' skin with a wave of goosebumps. Answers. Finally.


	5. Chapter Seven/Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geez, the weather here is being odd. It's really sunny but also freezing. OH. And I wanted to thank everyone who's leaving Kudos and Comments (special thanks to milky_haven-- I always look forward to your comments!)!!! Feedback is the reason I continue to write and I also appreciate when someone takes the time to leave it; so thank you guys, you really are awesome. 
> 
> Anyways, here's another chapter! *I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters*

Alby had given Thomas strict instruction to wait to ask any questions until the end. 

That proved to be much harder than Thomas originally thought. 

They started the tour at The Box where Thomas learned it showed up once a month with a new kid and once a week with supplies. He wanted to ask about it, but held it back. All-in-all; The Gladers knew little to nothing about the box. He also learned that weekly supplies weren't the only thing handed to them on a mysterious, silver platter; they also had the electricity and soil they needed to grow food. 

Alby went on to explain the Glade was cut into four sections; Gardens, Blood House, Homestead and Deadheads. Half the names gave him shivers. When Alby noticed Thomas' quizzical look- he continued. He explained how water was pumped through pipes, yet again coming from another unknown source. He informed Thomas that the Blood House wasn't as creepy as he had thought; it was the butchery. Thomas knew the Homestead, and Deadheads- the other concerning name- was a graveyard. That one was just as creepy as it sounded. 

They headed that way, towards the graveyard- The Deadheads. Thomas couldn't understand why a place full of teenagers needed a graveyard. Even if he could ask questions, Thomas doubted he'd actually ask that one. 

They wandered through the growing foliage until, to Thomas' surprise, they made it to the South Door. "In there's the Maze." Alby said, nodding that way. 

A quick chill rushed through Thomas; peering through the open doors, he worried a Griever would come rushing right through. He calmed himself down before he let it get any worse. Not to mention, thoughts of Newt started creeping up on him. He pushed them away- he'd never be able to focus if he started thinking about him. Thomas learned that Alby had been here the longest, two years, and that for those two years they've been trying to solve The Maze with no luck. 

Thomas frowned, hating not being able to ask questions. He started towards the Maze, hoping to see something that made sense. After all, Newt said the Grievers only came out at night. Suddenly, Alby's hand to his chest stopped him dead in his tracks, "You ain't going out there, Greenie." 

"Why not?..." 

"We've got one rule you cannot be forgiven for breaking, shank. And that's going into the Maze. Runners are the only ones to go in there, understood?" Alby asked, but his gaze showed no room for negotiation. 

Thomas gave a slight nod, but all Alby's warnings did was awaken something in him. His desire to be a Runner screaming and calling to get his ass out there. Thomas had to bite his lip to suppress the urge to go out there now. 

Out of nowhere, a screaming, booming alarm cried out over the Glade. Thomas threw his hands over his ears, looking about frantically. His eyes found Alby and he calmed a bit; the older boy didn't seem scared, just... confused. "That's weird," Alby muttered, eyes calming searching The Glade. 

"What's going on?" Thomas asked. 

"The Box!" That was all Thomas got from him before Alby took off for the middle of The Glade. 

Thomas followed and tried pushing for more answers, but Alby was silent. Before Thomas knew it, dozens of kids were heading towards the Box. Thomas' eyes searched them briefly before he saw just who he was hoping to see, "Newt!" he called, jogging over to him. "What in the world is going on?" 

"A Newbie," he said, shaking his head, confused before his eyes found Thomas'. Even in the midst of chaos, that gaze still stopped Thomas' mind like that was its sole purpose. "Right now..." 

Thomas glanced away for a moment to break the powerful gaze, before looking back at him, "So?" 

"So?" Newt repeated, "Newbie, we've never had two Greenies show up in the same month," he said, sounding more and more confused. 

And with that, he ran off to the Homestead. 

 

It took awhile for the alarms to calm, but they finally did. A crowd, in which Thomas was a part of, had formed around the Box. Everyone waiting, watching. He felt a tap on his elbow and glanced back to see Chuck. "There you are, Greenie. Thought you'd be off stalking Newt," he said, laughing at his own stupid joke. 

Thomas ignored it, "Why don't you call me by my name. Thomas." he said, smirking as he spoke to Chuck like he was stupid. 

Chuck returned the smirk and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah." 

Thoughts filled Thomas' mind about the Box. He asked Chuck things they may or may not have tried. Apparently, they sent a kid down on a rope awhile back and was cut in half like butter. Thomas found it hard to believe, but got the point. 

"Let's go see the new arrival," Chuck said, starting through the crowd. 

Thomas followed, curious himself. They made it as close as they were going to and waited. It wasn't long before he heard a door close in the background. Thomas' heart jumped and felt like someone had wrapped a string around it and pulling it that way. Before he had even turned to see who it was, he knew it was Newt. Alby was with him as well. As the two made their way through the crowd, people moved out of their way. As Newt and Alby passed, Thomas and Newt locked eyes briefly. Newt smiled at him and Thomas couldn't look him in the eye as he returned the polite gesture. 

Thomas watched as Newt and Alby took positions on opposite sides of the doors, forcing the heavy doors open. When it was open, silence settled over the Glade; followed by an unbearably thick blanket of anticipation. Newt crouched down and peered into the Box. His face scrunched up and he stood back up straight, looking utterly confused. The look was so strong Thomas wouldn't be surprised if a freaking unicorn leaped out and galloped across The Glade. 

Questions rose in an almost symphonic manner; any individual word lost among the ocean of boys. Alby shushed everyone, and all did as told. Alby shook his head, muttering about how odd this whole thing was. Someone yelled through the crowd, "What the hell's going on?" 

Newt stared at the Box for a second more, then the crowd. His eyes seemed to be focused directly on Thomas, "It's a... girl."

Excitement, confusion and questions rose throughout the crowd. Some called "dibs" or asked what she looked like, how old she was. Newt raised his hands, "Shut it!" he yelled, silencing the crowd, "She's dead!" 

***

The news was more than shocking. Some boys retrieved some ropes of ivy and lowered Newt and Alby into The Box to retrieve the corpse. 'Be careful with him,' Thomas thought worriedly, irrational fears sending images of the rope around Newt's waist snapping, causing the boy to hit the Box hard. Thomas had to literally shake his head to shoo away the dreadful images. 

To make it worse, Gally was one of the shanks holding the rope. Thomas could see himself marching over and punching the bully's teeth out if he dropped Newt. Thomas would do it, too. 

Thomas was relieved when they were being hoisted back up. Soon, Newt and Alby were clambering out of the Box as everyone crowded around the lifeless girl's body. Thomas hung back; he could see Newt from here just fine. Even so, Thomas caught a glance. She was thin, but not tiny. Silky, long hair, pale face, pink lips- beautiful. His gaze on her didn't last long before it wandered back to Newt. 

To Thomas' surprise, Newt turned to him and motioned for him to head over. Thomas did as told, rushing over in a panic. What did they want him for? Thomas avoided everyone's gaze; somehow he felt guilty though he hadn't done anything. Not that he knew of, anyway. 

"You know this girl, shank?" Alby snapped at him angrily as he approached. 

Thomas was left shell-shocked for a moment, "Um... No." he said, speaking to Alby as if he were an idiot. 

Alby seemed to realize his own previous anger and let out a sigh, "I mean- does she look familiar in anyway?" he asked, slightly lighter this time. 

Thomas shook his head, studying her again. "Nothing." 

"You sure?" Alby pressed crudely. 

"Yes. Why?" Thomas said, matching Alby's shitty tone. 

"Can't be a coincidence," Alby said, giving up, "two Greenies, two days..." 

Panic lit through him at this accusation, "You don't think I...?" 

"No," Newt said firmly, "ya didn't kill the girl, Greenie, we know." 

Newt's statement calmed the chaos running through Thomas' mind, but not by much; not by the way Alby was looking at him. Not by the way any of the other boys was looking at him. "I swear, she doesn't look familiar," Thomas said, more for Newt than anyone else. 

Newt looked like he was going to speak when the girl shot into a sitting position and sucked in air, eyes frantically searching. Newt flinched so hard Thomas thought he was going to fall back into the Box, Alby screamed and rocked back on his heels. 

She was mumbling something, quite and over and over. Suddenly, she took in a breath and muttered in a clear but terrifying voice, "Everything is going to change." 

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body suddenly became limp as she fell backwards, unconscious. She was visibly breathing this time, though. Her hand was in the air as she fell back- a piece of paper crumpled in her hand. Newt cautiously parted her fingers and took the paper, briefly straightening it on his knee and reading it. He dropped to his knees, straightened it out more as if he had seen it wrong the first time and stared in surprise. 

Across the paper, scribbled were five words: 

She's the last one. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* I wish there had been more Newtmas in those chapters, but I put it in where I could, I swear! Hope you enjoyed~


	6. Chapter Nine/Ten/Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry guys, I really wish I could update more. I think I'm going to start doing a chapter or two before I go to school in the mornings, too. Cause after school I have clubs and we're moving and chores and homework and-- ugh. Please don't lose interest people! I'm trying, I swear!! 
> 
> Anywho: ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters***

After Newt read the message aloud, the Glade fell utterly silent. Newt slowly rose to his feet and he glanced at Thomas with a worried expression. Thomas returned it.

Alby broke the silence, and their stare, by yelling for Med-Jacks. Two boys came rushing over. One of the boys knelt beside her and place his ear to her chest, then felt for a pulse.

Inappropriate comments about who got her first and whatnot; the comments made Thomas sick- this really wasn't the time. And for the first time in awhile, Thomas respected Alby, for the older boy immediately made it clear no one was to touch her.

The Med-Jacks explained she was okay, her heart beat just a bit slow. And with that, they started taking her to the Homestead. As he watched her go, a weird sense of familiarity flooded over him. Maybe he DID know her.

The moment she was gone, The Gladers finally started discussing the whole thing. Theories and surprised comments filled the air. Alby took Thomas by the shoulder, "You don't know her? You're sure?"

"Not that I can remember," he said, voice unsteady.

"You're sure?" Newt asked from behind Alby.

"Not a thing," he said to Newt, basically ignoring Alby. Alby seemed to notice and gave Thomas a weird look.

Alby shook his head and whispered something to Newt about calling a Gathering. Newt gave Thomas a quick once over, "See ya, Greenie." he said. Thomas couldn't bite back the smile; that was the first time Newt said something to him before walking off.

"What's a Gathering?" Thomas asked Chuck as he watched Newt limp off.

"It's when the Keepers meet," Chuck said proudly, "have a meeting."

Thomas sighed and felt the silent rumbles of approaching hunger in his stomach, "Hey, can we get something to eat?"

Chuck turned on his heels, "Follow me, lover boy."

Thomas smirked and shook his head as he followed.

***

Thomas was relieved to see the kitchen was empty at the moment. A clean place, comforting almost. Appliances and ingredients bounced around in his void of memories with no distinction Thomas could grasp. Thomas pulled up a seat, mumbling to himself about the insanity of this place. Thomas sighed and a brief thought of Newt came to mind. His little smile- it was absolutely burned into his mind.

Chuck brought two plates with sandwiches and carrots over to the table. Thomas wasted no time in beginning to devour his food. They ate in silence, which proved to be nice. A full stomach and a bit of ease for once, gave him some time to think about things he wanted to think about; like Newt and being a Runner.

Speaking on said thought, Thomas leaned back as he wiped his face with his napkin, "So Chuck, what do I have to do to be a Runner?"

"Not this again," Chuck said.

"Alby said I'd be starting my trials soon. So when do I get a shot with the Runners?" he asked, eager despite Chuck's reaction.

"They'll be back in a few hours, why don't you ask them?" he said, sarcasm laced in his voice. But Thomas thought that was a great idea.

Thomas pressed on the Runner deal a bit more. He found out they go out there everyday drawing up maps. It almost seemed unreal they hadn't solved it yet until he remembered Alby mentioning something about the walls changing everyday. Thomas didn't get much from Chuck. Sweet kid, good friend; but talking about anything with any meaning to it was like talking to a wall.

Thomas decided to go out exploring on his own. Thomas roamed all over the Glade; peeping on the Gardeners and whatnot. Eventually, he found his way near the forested area. He hadn't even been in there for a moment or two when he sensed movement by his feet, followed by a series of clacks. He looked down just in time to see the sunlight reflect off something metallic. A beetle blade.

Thomas noticed the green letters spelling out; WICKED on its back. An unbelievable curiosity gripped him and ran after it, following it into the thickness of the forest. Darkness swallowed them whole.

 

Thomas crashed madly through the trees, chasing after the little robotic spy with a passion. Thomas almost fell more than he'd like to admit. And all for nothing. It escaped him. "Shuck it," he muttered, Glader slang already catching up on him.

A twig snapped somewhere and Thomas snapped his head worriedly. Then another, louder this time. Closer. "Who's there?" Thomas called, managing to keep his voice steady despite the chill going up his spine. 

He stood silent for awhile, getting no response. He didn't put much thought into it, but started heading towards the noise; curiosity getting the better of him. Thomas pushed through branches and darkness for a bit before calling out a couple more times, the nervousness fading as he hadn't seen or heard anything for awhile. He came upon the chilling discovery that he had wandered into the graveyard. 

Thomas walked through it, reading names scribbled on wood. He had obviously never known them, but his heart ached for them to return. As if Thomas feeling bad they lost their lives could just snap them right back to it. Surprised, and somewhat disgusted, Thomas found a 'tomb', so to speak, with half a skull inside behind glass; like a display. And it was; the kid who they tried to lower down the hole. 'Geez,' Thomas thought, 'Chuck was right.' 

He was snapped back to reality when another twig broke. Then another and another and another; footsteps, steady ones. And they were coming his way. A new sort of terror gripped him, making him feel the very skin on the back of his head was tightening, "Who's there?" he yelled again, not able to keep his fear out of his voice. 

As a response, the twigs started breaking madly. Sprinting footsteps crashing through the forest. A skinny boy, pale and running a bit sideways- looking like absolute crap- came dashing into the clearing. Fear and confusion worked hand-in-hand to keep Thomas anchored in his place, "Who the hel-" 

The boy leaped and crashed into Thomas, sending him crashing into the ground and on top of him. Thomas flailed and kicked and scratched and swatted; adrenaline pulsing through him. His attacks seemed useless. He screwed his eyes shut and the sickening sound 'clack, clack, clack,' of teeth madly snapping open and shut near him. Thomas thought he had been holding the crazed boy back decently well until he felt an awful fire explode in his shoulder- pain searing. The jarring pain and realization that this boy had just bit into him pushed a cry from Thomas' mouth. The pain was so bad, he didn't know what to do. He was screwed; pinned and being attacked and he couldn't do a damn thing. He wanted to think about the important stuff; what his life had been like, Chuck-- Newt. But he just couldn't cling to a solid thought before pain took its place. 

As the pain progressed, so did Thomas' adrenaline. Thomas would deny it if asked, but the pure thought of not being quite where he wanted to be with Newt yet helped his adrenaline pump stronger. Thomas planted his hands on the boys thin chest and pushed. Finally, the boy went backwards. Thomas wasn't about to lose the opportunity, he scrambled to his hands and feet, breathing like he would never get the chance again. 

When terror eased enough to let him see, he was shocked. His attacker was the sick boy. It was Ben. 

 

He looked awful; dreadfully thin and pale, sickly green veins as thick as ropes wrapped around his small frame. His eyes were completely bloodshot as they fell on Thomas. And he stared, like a starving animal would at its prey. 

Thomas watched in exhausted horror as the boy crouched, about to leap again. Thomas may have escaped, but he didn't know if he could do it again. And damn, his shoulder hurt. Thomas lost even more resolve when he noticed a knife in Ben's hand. 

"Ben!" 

Thomas watched in, well, shock when he saw Alby walking calmly into the clearing, bow raised with an arrow snug and ready to go. "You best stop now boy or you're dying here," Alby said, sounding completely sure and calm. 

"If you kill me," Ben screamed, his voice shrill, "you'll be killing the good guy!" Ben turned to Thomas, tongue licking his lips and his body heaving with visible insanity, "he's the shank you want, Alby." he hissed, low and terrifying. 

"He's fine, Ben. He ain't done a damn thing; now why don't you get back to bed?" Alby said, calm, but somehow softer now. Though, the still-ready bow and arrow betrayed his words. 

Newt came rushing behind Alby and froze when he saw the scene. He gave Thomas a worried look, but soon had his attention stolen when Ben started yelling. "He's bad! It's because of him! He'll kill us!" he screeched, spittle flying from his lips. 

"Homestead, now," Alby demanded, not sounding convinced by Ben's insane accusations. 

"He'll want to take us home, he'll want to get us out of the Maze-- but we jumped into the Cliff!" he said, sounding scared now. 

"I'm going to count to three, Ben." Alby said firmly. 

Ben was whispering something about Thomas being bad over and over, swaying as he straightened out, switching the knife back and forth between his hands. 

"One." 

Ben grinned widely, all teeth. All greenish teeth, staring at Thomas like he was candy. 

"Two." 

Thomas briefly tried to reason with the boy, but Ben leaped at him, screaming madly and slashing his blade in a frenzy. Thomas froze, but he heard Newt scream. Even above that, though; "Three!" 

It sounded like someone had severed a thick wire. Ben's had snapped violently to the left, his body lagging a moment before twisting after it. He landed on his stomach, soundless. Lifeless. 

Thomas felt sick staring at the corpse of the Boy. Blood trailing from the arrow firmly stuck in his cheek, mangling the flesh just slightly. "Get him out of here," Alby said to Newt. 

Thomas glanced up just in time to see Newt reach him, "Come on," he said, turning Thomas away from the body and leading him out, a comforting hand on his back. Thomas wanted to thank Alby, but when he looked over his shoulder, he was already gone. 

The light hurt as Newt and Thomas made their way out of the dark forest. Thomas' ankle was screaming miserably, though he didn't remember ever hurting it. Newt insisted on draping Thomas' arm over his shoulders and supporting him, despite Thomas' protests. He could walk, after all, and he definitely didn't want Newt thinking he was weak. 

The images of what had happened spun madly, but he dropped to his knees, vomiting. Newt had slipped away just in time to avoid being brought down with Thomas and being sprinkled in bile. Thomas' body heaved and shivered, but Newt's hand on his back almost made Thomas feel all better. Almost. 

After a couple moments, Newt knelt beside Thomas, rubbing his back lightly, "That was nasty, Greenie," he said, his voice so soft and careful, as if he said something too strongly it would break Thomas. 

Thomas would've let out a fake laugh, but didn't even have the energy. He gave a weak smile. Newt returned it. Thomas didn't know if it was pushing boundaries, but Thomas leaned over and rested his head on Newt's. He would've rested his head on Newt's shoulder, but the boy was a bit too short for that. Newt didn't move, didn't tell him to back off. Just sat close to him, rubbing his back gingerly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that was a little longer than usual, but oh well. I also didn't quite get through chapter eleven, but I'll finish up tomorrow morning~


	7. Chapter Eleven (Continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I attempted to get up at four this morning to update before school, buuuut. That failed miserably XD Gonna need some practice on that one!!! 
> 
> *I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters*

Eventually, Newt had to go. 

Thomas' heart cried watching him leave. Hell, he almost cried when he left, too. They had sat there together for what seemed like a blissful eternity, until it was over; then it felt like nothing more than a deep moment he'd lost. If that was what forever was like, he was sure gonna need a lot of 'em. 

Now Thomas was in his sleeping back, staring up at the millions of sparkling stars in the sky. Somewhere, a foggy memory rubbed against his mind, remind him how much he had loved the stars and how much he admired their brilliance and beauty. He felt that admiration for a moment, but it turned- he couldn't help but notice his breath was taken a bit more by Newt nowadays. Those stars couldn't compare. 

Thomas thought about Newt, right there in the back of his mind. 

Right behind, Ben, of course. 

Every time he closed his tired eyes, Ben's ungodly, delusional expression was in his face; his green teeth snapping. Every awful sound he had heard during that exchange seemed to be stuck in his head like a song. 

"Say something," Chuck said again. 

"No," Thomas replied again. 

"This happens a lot- crazy Griever-stung lunatics go after other lunatics, no biggie." 

Thomas found no humor in Chuck's annoying comment and gave him a nasty look. "I'm just kidd-" Chuck started, but Thomas wouldn't let him finish. 

"Well don't, just shut up Chuck," he snapped, rolling and turning his back on him, "and go to bed." 

Chuck was completely silent until his soft breaths from sleep filled the air. Thomas laid there for a long time as snores began to sound over The Glade. Thomas was alone and wanted to cry or lash out or scream or something, but he did nothing. 

Until someone walked up to him slowly, as if not sure if he was awake. He shot up, irrational fear of getting attacked again springing him to life. Newt flinched at Thomas' sudden reaction, "Damn Greenie," he whispered softly. 

Thomas couldn't keep the half smile off his face, "Sorry, what's up?" he whispered just as soft. 

Newt dropped a pillow and blanket on the ground and lowered himself down, struggling slightly with the leg, "I knew ya'd be awake," he said matter-of-factly. 

"Are you... Sleeping out here?" Thomas asked, unsure if he should. He didn't want to jinx it. 

"For t'night," he said, laying back, "make sure ya don't start cryin' or something," he said teasingly. And for some reason, he enjoyed the teasing from Newt. 

Thomas laid back down and looked over at Newt, his face was so close, "How's Alby?" Thomas asked quickly to keep his thoughts from wandering. 

"He's alright," Newt said, turning on his side so he was facing Thomas, "and you? How are YOU doin'?" 

Thomas looked up at the sky, "I'm alright," he said. It felt true. If Chuck had asked him minutes ago and he said that, he would've been lying. But right now, with Chuck on his left and Newt on his right, it felt true. 

"Good," Newt said, nodding, he seemed to pick up on the sincerity. 

They talked. Sort of. They'd bring up something small and discuss it in their soft whispers for a moment. Thomas managed to make Newt laugh a couple times- that made Thomas feel more like a winner than anything else ever could. At one point, when they were exchanging trivial questions- favorite color, favorite animal, etc., etc.- Thomas asked one and got silence. 

The silence wasn't unusual in this question game; there memories were gone after all, it took some thinking. Eventually though, Thomas looked over and discovered something he hadn't known about Newt; that boy was one silent sleeper. Thomas let out a soundless chuckle and studied his face. It had never looked so peaceful. It was nice to see him like this; he wished he could all the time. 

Thomas' cheeks reddened and despite the embarrassment and, well, creepiness of the thought, Thomas leaned forward and kissed Newt's forehead. Softly and with unbelievable care. He had wanted to kiss him elsewhere, but if that was going to be their first kiss, he didn't want to steal it. Thomas turned so he was laying on his side. There was the slightest splash of dawn over the sky and the stars were dimming, but twinkling with their last reserves of energy. Thomas watched Newt sleep for a moment. Seeing him laying here, sleeping in such a peaceful state, at THOMAS' side- It gave Thomas hope. For this place. 

And for them. 

 

Thomas wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep or when Newt had disappeared. All he knew was that if Chuck hadn't dragged Thomas up and to the showers, changing room, and breakfast hall- he would've slept all damn day. He had never felt so drained. 

His entire body, inside and out, was lagging. Slow and lazy; he wished he could nap, but somehow he knew that wasn't an option. He got a bit of a wake-up call when Newt came to him and the two of them headed to the Blood House for Thomas' first day of training. 

"Sorry ya gotta work after that, Tommy," he said, looking tired as well, "probably think I'm the biggest slinthead here, but I don't make the rules," he said, attempting a sympathetic smile. 

Thomas shook his head, "It's fine. Something to get my mind off yesterday sounds awesome, anyways." 'In other words, you,' he thought to himself, but of course, didn't voice that part. 

Newt smiled, "You're as smart as ya look, Tommy," he said, Thomas noticing the nickname now. It made him blush. "Ya get lazy, ya get sad. Don't want that." 

Thomas nodded with a smile. Newt rubbed his eyes, looking stressed, "That girl," he said, shaking his head, "that was weird. And she's still in that bloody coma. Alby has me check up on 'er all the time." 

"That whole thing was weird," Thomas said as thoughtfully as his mind would allow. 

"So what's first?" Thomas started, wanting to change that subject, "Milk cows or slaughter little piggies?" 

Thomas got what he had hoped from that statement; a laugh. Followed by that feeling of utter accomplishment. Another point for Thomas. "We always make Newbies start with the slicin'. That's anywhere from preparin' to kill, killin', and cleanin' up the remains. We just figure we get this one out of the way, and if a Newbie likes it- well... There ain't many more jobs like it, so it's a fit." 

Thomas nodded. 

"Let's go meet the Keeper, Winston," Newt said, leading the way inside. 

 

Winston was a short but muscular, acne-covered kid. The typical teenager. Except for the way he really seemed to enjoy slicing up dead animals... The first entire hour was a tour. Pointing out which animals get what sort of fate, what animals belonged outside and which went in the barn and where to find them all. Next, was the work. Not gruesome stuff; just feeding the animals, cleaning up after 'em- typical farm work. 

Then came the third. The nasty stuff; butchering. Thomas knew in that moment he was never going to work with animals and that he was NEVER going to eat anything from a pig again. Thankfully, Winston gave him a break. Thomas was eager to get out of there; Winston was sort of creepy and the atmosphere he worked in was not something Thomas could come to like. 

As Thomas wandered, surprise took him when he saw a Runner entering the Glade. He was early. An Asian kid with strong arms and short black hair. He didn't come that deep in before falling to his hands and knees, sucking in desperate breaths. He looked awful; drenched in sweat, flushed bright red, and the slightest haze to his eyes- like he had just run three consecutive marathons. 

Worry and curiosity gravitated Thomas towards the boy. He wanted to be a Runner and had never even talked to one. Maybe one with the passion would understand someone with it a bit more than Chuck. Thomas started that way, eager to speak with him. 

Before he made it, the Runner collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IS IT JUST ME OR IS CHAPTER ELEVEN REALLY LONG? It's a good one though, a lot of things happen in it~ I'm going to post Chapter Twelve right now, I just figured I should stop that chapter there so it didn't get too long.


	8. Chapter Twelve/Thirteen/Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, Chapter Twelve. Hope you guys enjoy!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!*

Thomas froze. The boy was just in a crumpled heap. Thomas wasn't sure whether to approach the seemingly lifeless Runner-- What if he was stung? 

It was only a moment, though, before Thomas snapped out of it. The kid needed help. "Newt!" he screamed, hands cupped over his mouth, "Someone get Newt or Alby or a Med-Jack or-or something!" he yelled, running to the Runner. 

Kneeling beside him, he looked over him worriedly, not sure if he should touch him or keep distance, "Oh my gosh, are you alright?!" 

"Fine... I'm fine," he breathed with no breath to spare, glancing up, "Who are you?" 

"Thomas-- I'm new," he said, not sure if the Runners were kept in touch about what goes on in The Glade since they weren't in it much. 

The Runner's shaking arms pushed himself into a sitting position, "Oh yeah... Thomas... Newbie. You and that chick." 

"Minho," Alby started, jogging over, Newt trailing behind, "What're you doing back here early?" 

"Calm your wad, Alby," Minho said, seeming to be starting to feel better, "Get me some water, dropped my pack somewhere in there." 

Alby didn't move and kicked Minho in the leg, a bit too hard to be friendly, "What happened, Minho?" he demanded. 

Thomas had expected Minho to crack under Alby's hard stare and utter asshole-ness, but much to Thomas' shock, Minho didn't seem to give two klunks, "I can barely talk, shuck-face!" he yelled, his voice protesting as he did so, "Get me some water!" 

Alby looked almost amused for a moment before looking over to Thomas, "Minho's the only one who can talk to me like that," he warned before jogging off. 

"He lets you boss him around?" Thomas asked, sounding too much like a child for his own liking. 

"You're scared of him? Pfft, Newbie's gotta learn," Minho said, earning a laugh from Newt as he walked over and stood beside Thomas. An irrational sadness briefly panged Thomas' chest, as if Newt's laugh was his and his only. 

"Isn't he the leader?" Thomas asked, feeling kind of small compared to this Runner. 

"Leader?" Minho barked with a scoff, "Suuuure, THAT guy's the leader," he shook his head a little, snickering. 

Thomas wasn't sure what to make of Minho, he couldn't decide if he liked his personality or not. Thomas asked a bit more about leadership, just to get talked down. Quite far down. He was getting frustrated with Minho. All he wanted at this point was to wander off with Newt somewhere to calm down. As he moved to get up from his sitting position, about to execute said plan, Minho stopped him. "Dude, relax, I'm just messin' with you." 

Thomas relaxed and returned to his sitting position, Newt dropping into one beside Thomas as well. Minho looked between them briefly, then gave a suspicious look, but he didn't press it; thank God. Thomas asked a couple questions, but Minho shot them down, telling him to wait for Alby to get back. Even still, Minho seemed to tread on careful ground when dealing with people. Thomas liked him. 

Alby returned returned a moment later, a big plastic cup full of water. He handed it over to Minho, who gulped down the whole thing without pausing for a breath. 

"Alright," Alby said, crossing his arms, "out with it. What happened?" 

Minho glanced at Thomas briefly, but Newt replied before Alby could, "He's fine, just go." 

Minho stood up weakly, wincing every time his body moved. He had never seen someone so exhausted, Thomas' empathy increasing by the minute. "I found a dead one," he said. 

"A dead what?" Alby asked, Newt standing in shock. 

Minho smiled, "A dead Griever." 

 

Somehow, Thomas didn't need to be told that a dead Griever had never been found before. Alby's face and Newt's gaping mouth was enough to tell him that. "Why didn't you bring it with you?" Alby asked with a tone that said he hadn't exactly expected him to. 

"Those things weight like a half-ton dude, and there's no way I'm pricking myself on any parts of that nasty thing." 

But yet, Alby persisted; "What did it look like? Were the metal spikes sticking out? Did it move? Was it's skin still moist?" 

Thomas shifted uncomfortably, trying to decided whether or not to ask questions himself. Newt reached over and took Thomas' wrist, giving it a squeeze. He took that as a no. 

"You've gotta see it for yourself," was all Minho said. 

"Wake-up tomorrow, we're out." Alby said with a nod. 

"I should go back out there," Minho said, pushing himself forward with a slight limp, "buuuuuut, I'm going to go eat." 

Alby suddenly turned on Thomas, "If you know something you ain't tellin' me..." 

"Why do you hate me so much?" Thomas snapped. 

"Hate you?" Alby asked, faltering, Thomas catching him off guard, "Boy, this has got nothin' to do with any of that. We're just trying to survive." 

Thomas weakened, "But... Why do you keep accusing me?-" 

"Cuz it can't be a coincidence! Things got weird when you made an appearance, Newbie." 

"I don't know anything, Alby!" Thomas yelled, "I don't even know where I was three days ago-- Back. Off!" 

Alby looked like he had just been slapped, "... Slim it, Greenie, if you remember somethin', just lemme know. Promise it." 

Thomas sighed, "I promise." 

And with that Alby walked away, but he hesitated and looked between Newt and Thomas, focusing on the space between them. Thomas hadn't noticed until now how small it was. "Come on, Newt," Alby snapped, giving Thomas a dirty look. 

Newt patted Thomas on the shoulder, "See ya, Tommy," he said, sounding like a little kid being picked up from his friend's early. 

Thomas glared at Alby as he disappeared. If he was going to try and separate them because he didn't trust Thomas or whatever, then that boy was playing one dangerous game. 

 

Thomas found a pleasant, isolated tree near the DeadHeads. He knew he needed lunch and the dread of going back to butchering hung over him, but he found some peace here. 

He'd just felt his eyelids droop when Chuck came. Peace gone. 

"Thomas! Thomas!" he shrieked, snapping Thomas to life. He had thought something bad had happened, that Thomas needed to beat someone up for being mean to him. Maybe Alby- that'd be nice. But the boy looked excited. 

Thomas groaned, relaxing now as he rubbed his eyes, "What?" 

"Ben... He isn't dead!" the boy exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. 

Thomas' senses switched to life, "What?" 

"He's not dead! Baggers got him- arrow barely missed his brain. He's alive!" Chuck exclaimed. 

Thomas was shell-shocked, not sure what to say. "He's in the Slammer," Chuck continued, "our jail." 

A pang of guilt hit Thomas' chest, "What're they gonna do with him?" 

Chuck's excitement fell, "Poor Benny's gonna be wishing he was dead..." 

"Why?" Thomas asked slowly, not sure if he wanted an answer for once. 

"They wouldn't forgive him for trying to kill you; they're Banishing him tonight." 

"What does that mean?" Thomas asked, panic rising. 

Chuck gave a half smile, no words. Then he turned and ran, leaving Thomas with his racing heart and absolute dread of a 'Banishing'. 

 

That night, Newt and Alby gathered every Glader in the place, right in front of the East Door. Twilight was beginning to make its appearance, but the Door was still open. Wouldn't be for long. The Runners had literally just returned and were off in the Map Room. Thomas had his suspicions of what this was, but damn, he prayed he was wrong. 

But from the hushed voices of the Gladers and solemn atmosphere, Thomas figured he was right. They were going to put him in the Maze. The moment the Runners returned, Alby shouted, "Bring him out!" 

And they did. He struggled and begged and pleaded and cried, making an absolute scene. Making Thomas' heart sink in its own guilt. Thomas also didn't notice the pole being brought out. A literal, long pole. He tried to convince himself as he realized they were securing a collar on the end that it wasn't his fault. But the feeling remained. 

The whole fiasco was terrifying. The Keepers held tight to the pole, after securing the collar on Ben's neck of course. They ignored his screams and pleas and sobs and they just thrust him into the Maze. They released the collar, leaving the boy in there. In that damned place. He tried to make his run for it, but he didn't succeed before those doors slammed shut; screaming and apologizing the entire time. 

Thomas threw his hands over his ears, tears running down his cheeks. This was his fault. 

His filling eyes found Newt's and the boy started his way, his eyes full of worry. Thomas didn't think twice as he walked forward through the crowd to diminish the distance faster and threw his arms around Newt. He pulled him in as close as he humanly could and focused on Newt's warmth, his heart beat beating against Thomas', his thin arms wrapping around Thomas' back hesitantly. 

Thomas could feel them; the wary glances from curious Gladers, dirty looks from Gally and his cronies and especially Alby, the impressed though slightly taken aback ones from Chuck and Minho- he could feel them all, but barely. Like a leaf fluttering off somewhere in the distance. This was horrible, Ben was going to die miserably and it was all because of him and the only thing he wanted was Newt. The only one he wanted to think about. 

So held him close and did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was kind of long as well, but I'll try to keep 'em a decent size and try to establish some sort of normal schedule for updates!


	9. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for such a late update!!! D: I was helping my mom fix fences and I met up with a Sargent aaaand, in about 8 months, when I turn 17, I will be enrolling for basic training for the National Guard :)))) Super excited and pumped!! Hope you guys enjoy!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Once again, Thomas was up without sleep. Newt wasn't here this time, though. After their little scene at the Banishment, Alby was quick to drag Newt off, blabbering about how they had preparations and work to do. Thomas thought about it now, the way he strode right up to Newt and wrapped his arms around him and cried. It brought warmth to his cheeks now. 

Even worse, though- he was alone. Well, not alone, Chuck was beside him as usual- snoring softly tonight. He must've been tired. Thomas was exhausted, but he couldn't find sleep. And with no one talking to him and calming him, there seemed to be no hope. He thought about Ben a lot. His cries and pleas; what they did to him. It haunted him. Newt had tried to convince him it wasn't his fault, and if it had been anyone else Thomas wouldn't have blamed them, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that this one was all his fault. 

He laid on his side, facing towards the direction of the Homestead. He stared at it, thinking of the one he loved inside for awhile, Ben lurking at the back of his mind the whole time. Just as thoughts of Newt won out, a heavy slumber fell on him. 

 

The next morning, the awakening sounds of working Gladers pulled Thomas from his deep sleep- bright and early. Thomas briefly sat up, but his exhaustion won out and he fell back, hoping he'd be left alone for just a couple more minutes. Then he heard the footsteps approaching and he internally groaned, he did NOT want to see anyone or do anything. 

"C'mon Tommy, I already busted my butt to let you sleep in," a familiar, heavily accented voice said, "don't get me in any trouble." 

Thomas sat up, waking up a bit when he saw Newt's smile. Maybe he DID want to see him. "I wouldn't consider this as sleeping in," he said with a mocking smile, rubbing his eyes, "what time is it?" 

"Seven o'clock," Newt said, plopping down beside Thomas and folding his legs under him, "it's sleepin' in for us," he said with a little laugh. 

"Puttin' ya with the Track-Hoes today, from what I heard from Winston, ya didn't take to Slicin' all that well." Newt said after a couple moments. 

Thomas nodded, not wanting to think about that right now. "What is a Track-Hoe?" 

"What we call the guys workin' their butts off in the Gardens. Zart's the Keeper there- nice guy." Newt explained. 

They sat quietly for a moment, "Alby let you let me sleep in?" he asked, not really believing it, "and then let you come wake me up?" 

Newt shrugged, "He may or may not know about it. An' if he has somethin' to say, then he can save it. That shank's bein' bloody ridiculous." 

Thomas laughed a little at Newt's mischievousness, "What's his problem with me anyways?" 

"He doesn't know what to think of ya so for some reason, that means I'm suppos' to keep distance or somethin'. I don't really care," Newt said with a shrug and looked at Thomas with a grin, "I think I've made my own assessment of ya." 

Thomas didn't have a chance to say anything- which was probably a good thing cause he didn't know what to say- before the Doors rumbled open for the morning. Thomas watched Minho wander out briefly and retrieve the collar, the one that had been around Ben's neck the previous night. Thomas shuddered and decided not to bring it up, "So tell me about the Runners." he blurted. 

"Runners?" Newt asked, looking at him with confusion all over his face, "Why?" 

"Just wondering," Thomas said immediately. 

Newt gave him a look of half suspicion and half concern, Newt wasn't stupid. "Best of the best, they are. Everything depends on those shanks." 

Thomas tilted his head, "What about you? Why aren't you one?" 

Newt's gaze abruptly swiveled from Thomas, watching some stone he was pushing around with his foot, "I was. Hurt my leg, though. Never quite healed right," he muttered, reaching down and rubbing his ankle. For a split second, he looked miserable. Not physically pained; almost tormented. 

"How'd you do it?" Thomas asked softly, not sure if it was his place to ask. 

"Runnin' from the bloody Grievers," he said, almost too fast, "one of 'em almost got me." 

Thomas frowned sadly, trying to imagine Newt darting from one of those things and getting seriously messed up; maybe tossed into a wall or something. The thought made Thomas want to reach over and hold him protectively- the thought of anything happening to him made his gut twist. "Anyway," Newt said, clearing his throat, "best of the best." 

Thomas sensed Newt wanted off this conversation and didn't push it further, "So how do you get tested to be one? How fast you are?" 

Newt scoffed and punched Thomas' shoulder lightly, giving him butterflies, "C'mon Tommy! Runnin' is only bloody half of it!" Newt continued before Thomas asked, "you gotta be smart, quick, strong, decision maker- can't be reckless, can't be timid. Like I said best of the best; Not gonna lie though, it sucks out there. I don' miss it." 

Thomas couldn't understand his drive to be a Runner, all he heard was bad things about it. But he had never wanted something so bad. Well, almost nothing. Newt was definitely above that. "So why all the interest?" Newt pressed. 

Thomas knew he knew; "I want to be a Runner." 

Newt's face fell, "Tommy. This ain't no joke." he said, firmly but almost vulnerable. Desperate. 

"I'm serious." Thomas said. 

"Tommy-" Newt started, but Thomas wouldn't let him talk him go. 

"I can't do it, Newt. I can't do the mundane routine- I can't. I'll lose it. There's just something telling me it's what I need to do. I can do it." Thomas urged. 

Newt stared at him for a moment, looking sad. "Give it a rest for now, Tommy. If you stomp around her loud and proud, shanks are gonna hate ya. For now, please Tommy, just work. Things depend on us workin'. I'll bring it up to the Keepers later." 

Thomas nodded, pleased Newt was going to consider. Newt gave a half smile, seeming glad the conversation was over, "Alright, c'mon Tommy, let's go get some food from Frypan." 

 

Newt and Thomas joined Chuck at a table for breakfast. Chuck gave Thomas a smirk when Newt wasn't looking. When Thomas flashed him glare, the boy just winked. Sometimes Chuck could be really damn annoying. 

They sat and talked, Thomas right beside Newt- pretty freaking close- and Chuck across from them. Thomas finished his food and looked over at Newt's hand; it was resting on Newt's thin thigh. Thomas bit his lip, maybe now was the time to make a move. Alby wasn't around, Chuck was busy eating and talking and Newt was distracted, talking with Chuck. Thomas' fingers trembled just slightly as he reached for Newt's hand. 

Commotion of Gladers in the distance made Thomas stop and quickly pull his hand back before Newt noticed. "What's going on?" Thomas asked quickly, hoping to take focus off his red cheeks. 

"Gladers're seein' Minho and Alby off." Newt explained, thankfully not noticing. 

"So what killed it?" Chuck asked. 

Newt paused, opened his mouth to speak, then pursed his lips. He had no idea. Though Thomas couldn't help thinking about how Alby was going to be gone, all day. It brought a smile to his face and a new wave of confidence. He leaned back, draping his arms over the back of the table and behind Newt, scooting a little closer to him. Thomas had no idea what he was going to do, but he figured today should be the day that he did SOMETHING. 

Now or never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I was gonna post another, but I'm exhausted! But hey, tomorrow's Saturday!! I promise to post at least three separate chapters and at least one (maybe two) one-shots!! Goodnight my friends!


	10. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna squeeze in a couple updates before I go to my friend's house; we need to study XD 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Newt lead Thomas off to the Gardens, where he worked with Zart. He had to admit, it really was some hard work. But Newt had also said Zart was a nice guy, that proved to be true as well. He was sort of quiet and kept to himself, but he answered whatever questions Thomas had. 

When break time rolled around, though, nothing could have kept Thomas there. He made his way to the kitchen, tired and sore. He, Chuck and Newt sat in the grass. Though Newt was a bit unresponsive, he looked like he hadn't slept in years; Thomas had never seen him so quiet. "What's wrong with him?" Chuck whispered after Thomas had been watching him worriedly for awhile. 

"I don't know," Thomas replied quietly. 

"I can here you two," Newt said flatly. 

Thomas frowned and scooted over closer to him, Chuck following, "What's wrong?" Chuck asked before Thomas had a chance to. 

"Everythin'. The girl's still sleepin', but that don't mean she's quiet. Groanin' and mutterin' weird things in her sleep. She's eatin' less and less, too. Bloody Hell, that's not even what's gettin' me so bad. Alby and Minho..." his voice trailed. 

"What about 'em?" Thomas asked, never taking his eyes off Newt. 

Newt shook his head slightly, "... They should've been back hours ago." 

 

Before Thomas knew it, he was working again. He would've given anything to stay there with Newt; hold him, comfort him, or just be there- whatever he needed. But Newt reluctantly told him he should get back to work. So he did. He constantly glanced around, looking for either Alby and Minho or Newt coming his way. Neither of the options showed up. 

Thomas thought about when he suggested to Newt that they send out a search party; the way the look of horror Thomas had never seen before spread over his face. Apparently it was forbidden, but Newt was terrified of the Maze. Made sense, what with the way he reacted to Thomas wanting to be a Runner. Whatever had happened to Newt out there had been truly awful. Thomas tried not to think about it much, returning to his work. 

 

Night rolled around. Dinner was somber, no one could eat much- still no sign of Alby and Minho. The Runners had come back, though. Sadness gripped his heart tighter and tighter as he watched Newt run across the Glade, Door to Door. They ate silently, he and Chuck, before Thomas couldn't take it anymore, "I'm going to go watch the Doors with Newt."

He expected Chuck to protest, or at least crack a joke, but the boy just nodded. Moments later, he heard the boy trotting behind him. They caught Newt between runs. Newt suddenly whipped around and looked at Thomas, "Where are they!?" 

Thomas didn't know what to say; all he had wanted to do all day was comfort him and now he had the chance and was drawing blanks. He rested a hand on Newt's arm, "Are you sure we can't send out a search party?" 

"We can't," he said, but the edge in his voice made it perfectly clear he wanted to. "One hundred percent against the rules. And the Doors'll be closing soon." 

Newt's entire resolve, whatever it was running on, just vanished. He weakly took a step forward and rested his head on Thomas' shoulder. Thomas could tell from his demeanor that he was crying, or at least about to. Thomas tried to calm his racing heart as he wrapped his arms around Newt and held him closely. Thomas was so lost in his thoughts; focusing on how closely and tightly he should be holding Newt as he cried- that when the boom signaling the Doors were closing sounded, he jumped. 

Newt hiccuped briefly with the sound of it, quickly swallowing the emotion he let escape. Thomas squeezed him. Just as Thomas was going to lead Newt to the Homestead to lay down, he caught the slightest flicker of movement. He focused, and two forms took shape. It was Minho, who was dragging Alby along with him. 

"They got him!" Minho screamed weakly. 

"Newt," Thomas muttered, loosening his grip on him, "Newt, Newt, they're here!" 

Newt spun around and watched them, his eyes wide and filled. "Hurry," he whispered, grabbing Thomas' hand as he watched them head this way. 

Thomas swallowed hard and held Newt's hand back, watching them worriedly. He watched them head this way, but Alby slipped from Minho's grip and they both went down. That was it, they weren't going to make it; there was no way. Thomas looked at his and Newt's connected hands and slowly started loosening them, he had a bad idea. 

Newt noticed immediately and flicked his eyes up at Thomas, "Don't even think about, Tommy," he said, warning laced in his voice. 

Thomas bit his lip and searched Newt's eyes as if he had an objective in there. He studied every feature of his face, burning into his memory as if this was the last time he'd see him. It very could've been. He briefly glanced at the closing doors and his struggling friends, then back to Newt. One more precaution, he had to take, just in case he didn't see Newt again. A slight tremble came over his entire body and he did it before he lost the nerve; grabbing Newt's face with both hands and holding him in place as he craned his neck down and kissed him, hard and rushed and channeling as much passion as he could into it. 

If Minho hadn't yelped, Thomas might not have stopped. He pulled away, breathing as if he had just sprinted over every square inch of the Glade; his heart beating in his ears. He placed his hand on Newt's cheek briefly, not knowing what to say, his eyes darting around Newt's face. He gave an apologetic smile before turning and dashing towards the closing Doors. 

He almost stumbled and fell twice, his body still shuddering with nerves from kissing Newt. He was barely able to squeeze through the closing doors in time, Chuck and Newt's screams of protest following him all the way. But he made it. The Door shut behind him with a thud, like a death toll. It's echo bounced of the thick walls and silence inside the Maze like laughter; laughter for the damned.


	11. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another :3 Short, I know, so sorry!

He didn't move. Not Thomas or Minho or Alby. No one moved for awhile. 

Who knows? Maybe that would've sat there, frozen in terror the entire night if Alby hadn't let out a sharp cry. Minho was laying on the ground beside him, moaning. Thomas snapped out of it and ran to them. Minho was pulling himself up as Thomas arrived. They both looked awful. 

"Greenie," Minho said, voice raw, "if you think you're brave or a hero or whatever for coming out here, listen up. You're the shuckiest shuck-faced shuck there ever was. You're dead, Greenie. Just like us." 

"I couldn't just leave you guys out here," Thomas said, anger rising at Minho's attitude. 

"And what good are you with us? Whatever man, get killed, whatever." Minho said, rolling his eyes. 

Thomas did all he could not to kick him in the face. Minho knelt beside Alby and Thomas stood, looking at Alby, but more looking through him. What he really saw was Newt's eyes fluttering back into reality when Thomas pulled away, his red cheeks, trembling lips; and the absolute terror in his voice, the pleading in his eyes when Thomas sprinted for the Maze. His heart ached. 

"Is he going to die?" Thomas asked; not the best question to ask, but whatever it took to not think about how he hurt Newt. 

"Since we didn't make it back; probably. I don't know how long he has to go without the Serum. But I mean, we're dead too." He said it so matter-of-factly, fear crept up on Thomas. He might never see Newt again. 

"We're really going to die?" Thomas asked, his voice portraying the hope he was losing. "No chance?" 

"None." 

Thomas had to admit, Minho's negativity was starting to piss him off, "We have to get back, there has to be something, anything." 

Minho didn't say anything. Thomas took a deep breath, reminded himself Newt was waiting for him, and began building his resolve back up. Minho stood and and grabbed Alby's arms and nodded to his legs, "Get 'em, we're gonna carry him to the door." 

Thomas gripped helplessly onto his strands of hope and lifted Alby's legs, he and Minho carrying him over to the door. Minho propped Alby up against the Door. They stood there for a moment, no one knew what to say. Thomas leaned against the Door as if he hoped and pressed enough, the Door would open and he could escape. Obviously, that didn't happen. 

His fingers absently traced ivy on the wall, "Can we not just climb this?" 

"We've already tried," Minho said, annoyed. 

A noise came from down the hallway, blossoming goosebumps across Thomas' skin. Minho's head popped up and he peered down the dark corridor. The sound was awful, a low, metallic, whirling sound. It just grew louder and louder. Suddenly, Minho piped up, "We have to split up- it's our only hope. Just keep moving, whatever you do, don't. Stop. Moving." 

And then he was gone. Leaving Thomas in the darkness and the terror he left behind.


	12. Chapter Eighteen/Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY COMPUTER HAS BEEN FIXED. We moved and got a new monitor and didn't get the power cord for it...... But we have it now and we have a new keyboard which is so awesome (but I'm still getting used to it, so bare with me here lol) and a new mouse and the monitor is so nice and clear and just wow <3 So I am so, so sorry from the break in updates, but I am back and every update will be AT LEAST two chapters, and I'll post as much as I can throughout the day!!

Thomas' eyes were glued to the spot where Minho had disappeared. 

He could not believe he would do something like that. Thomas tried to fight it, but could feel himself starting to resent him. Minho was "the best of the best", as Newt would say, and he just left a newcomer and a wounded right in the middle of a battlefield. Unbelievable. 

Thomas didn't have much time to dwell over it when more metallic noises; clicks and stuttering engine-like sounds looming in the shadows. If the sound wasn't bad enough, there was a smell- like oil burning. 

Thomas fought back every urge to doubt himself and give up; Minho was gone, being mad about it wasn't going to help. He was trapped in the Maze with deadly abominations lacing its walls like decorations, giving up surely wasn't going to help. Not to mention, he had Alby here. Wounded. He needed help. Knowing he wouldn't be able to just leave him there, Thomas grabbed Alby's arms and squatted in front of Alby, heaving the heavy boy onto his back. Alby was completely unresponsive. 

"Now is a good a time as any to tell you," he grunted with the effort of carrying the older boy, "I kissed Newt before I came in here. And if I get out, I'm doing it again and again. Good that?" he paused, knowing he wouldn't get an answer. He let out a brief strained and somewhat forced laugh at his stupid humor. 

Thomas literally only made it about three steps before he collapsed under Alby. Thomas groaned, his body willing him to rest there for a moment. But what seemed to be lights bouncing off the corridor from a distance told him otherwise. He went with the latter. 

Trying a new approach, he positioned himself behind Alby and grabbed his arms again, dragging him down the corridor this time. He only reached the ten-foot mark when he had to stop; Alby was just too heavy for that to work. Not that he knew where he would drag him off to anyhow. With a sigh, Thomas began pushing and pulling Alby right back to the closed Door. He sat Alby against it, then sat beside him, trying to catch his breath without much luck. 

Thomas sat there, air starting to come into his lungs more gently than before. As it did so, he thought about a solution. Running was a bad idea; he couldn't carry Alby and even if he could, he had no idea where he'd go or what he'd do if Grievers found them. Thomas looked around, his eyes catching on the wall. Once again, another bad plan found his head. It relied completely on knowledge Thomas didn't have and strength he wasn't sure he had either, but what would it hurt? He had to at least try to get out of there; Newt was waiting. 

Thomas walked over and tested the ivy for a bit. Pulling, leaning, briefly climbing- they seemed steady enough. The holding of the vines was the first burst of encouragement he had since entering the Maze. He rushed back over to Alby and dragged him to the vines. A loud crack, followed by the sound of crumpling metal startled Thomas and he almost dropped Alby. The sounds were getting louder, closer. 

Thomas forced down his panic and got to work. 

His plan was a little odd, and awkward to work at, but he was able to accomplish it after a long time of pushing, tying, panting, and panicking. He had managed to tie Alby up with vines, literally. He had both Alby's wrists and ankles secured with vines, and even managed to (painfully) push Alby up the massive wall, about thirty feet up the wall. That was all his body would allow him to do. His muscles screamed and ached, his lungs clawed at his chest and throat with each breath, and he had an ungodly headache from over-exertion. But he did it. 

He tightened the vine around his own chest, hanging with Alby from the wall and feeling just as lifeless. He turned to face the Maze; this is where they'd stay for the night. Thomas didn't exactly know how Grievers worked, but he hoped to God they wouldn't look up. The silence was loud; a suffocating scream in his ear, only pierced by the occasional whirling sound of a Griever somewhere in the distance. Thomas caught a flicker of red to his left and turned that way, having to stop the scream that attempted to push past his lips. 

A beetle blade was only inches from him, it's light so bright he couldn't look at it directly. With it so close, he came upon a chilling discovery. In neat, crimson letters on its torso, one word stood out distinctly: WICKED. 

Thomas' mind started racing as it usually did. What could it mean? Was it secret? Why stamp it on a beetle blade if it was confidential? Were they supposed to see it? After a couple endless minutes, the beetle scurried off along the wall. Thomas sucked in a breath he hadn't realized he'd been denying himself of. An awful screech sounded, so close now. Thomas mimicked Alby, letting himself hang "lifelessly". 

Then it rounded the corner, the one thing he irrationally hoped wouldn't find him tonight; a Griever. 

 

Thomas thought his eyes might bug out of his head as he watched it approach. It was ugly and painful to look at- part animal, part machine. Only someone seriously demented could of dreamed this up. It rolled and clicked along the corridor, a blob of thick-looking slime and random hair particles sparsely protruding it's disgusting body. Following a quick track, metal spikes pushed through its glistening body before slowly retracting back inside. The Griever would abruptly roll into a ball, move forward, uncurl, pause- as if catching its bearings-, then continue sliding down. It was disgusting and horrifying. He suddenly wished he had listened to Newt and never had come in here. 

Remaining still was so hard now. Now that he saw the creature the sounds matched with. Seeing it roll and pulsate and slide down the corridor; it was almost too much. Almost. Thomas hoped and prayed it wouldn't see him, but he knew. He knew it already knew where he was; the beetle blade made sure of it. 

Thomas had one eye squeezed shut, the other open as wide as it could be. He bit at his lip, hoping so bad that the creature would just leave. But he watched, and listened, as it made its way towards them. Then, with ease, began rolling right up the wall towards them. The lights bathed- or drowned- Alby and Thomas. Thomas was completely limp, he wanted to watch and study the creature, but he knew better- any movement could give him away. 

Then suddenly, it switched off. 

No sound, no movement, no lights- it was just /off/. With the vanishing of the lights, came Thomas' blindness. He couldn't see a damn thing, there was no way to. The only thing Thomas thought could be worse than the actual monster was its stillness. The anticipation of what was going to happen next, it was driving him insane. 

When the Griever burst back into light and sound, Thomas' entire body jolted. No that mattered if he moved or not, the thing was climbing up the wall right to him.


	13. Chapter Twenty/Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, so sorry for its lateness, we're STILL getting moved in -_-

Every ounce of hope Thomas had drained as he watched the Griever start up the wall, shredding ivy and tearing chips of wall in its wake. The only option was to run now. 

'I am so sorry, Alby,' Thomas thought before starting to untie the vine around his chest. 

He held tight to ivy blanketing the wall as he removed the one from his chest. He had to move; up would get him nowhere and could result in Alby's death, down would have him dead in seconds- the side was his only option. Thomas reached out and grabbed a vine nearby, he wrapped it around his hand. He took a deep breath, then let go of the hand keeping him in place. 

He went scraping along the wall, his body swinging to the left. Before his the pendulum motion following his swing could take him back towards Alby, he grabbed onto another vine and stopped himself. He gripped it with both hands, pressed his feet flat against the wall, and began shuffling along the wall; grabbing onto a new vine each time he ran out of usable, mobile space on the previous. He moved much faster than he could have ever hoped and kept his movement steady. 

Thomas spared a glance and, just as he had hoped, the Griever had altered its course from Alby and was heading his way. Thomas continued his flee, hearing the Griever following him each inch of the way. Eventually, he let his hand slide down the vine, dropping a couple feet before catching himself. Then he did it again, and again until finally, his feet hit the ground. And as soon as they did, he broke into a sprint. A booming crash, followed by whirls and clicks nearby urged the adrenaline in Thomas on. 

He rounded a corner, then another and another. He subconsciously tracked his own movements with his mind, just in case he lived through tonight. Just in case he could get back to Newt. God, how he wanted to. 

Thomas ran like never before, like he never thought he could. His heart felt like it was going to explode, and take his lungs down in the explosion. But he had to keep moving, moving was what was going to keep him alive, moving was what was going to get him to Newt again. 

He had managed to gain some ground ahead of the Griever. His joy fizzled as soon as he rounded the next corner. 

Three Grievers up ahead, rolling directly towards him. 

 

Panic flared. He swung on his heels, checking to see if his original pursuer was still there. It was. There was no hope. None at all. He was alone, four Grievers, exhausted and useless. Even so, he decided he'd go down fighting. 

One on one seemed more realistic than three on one. Thomas charged straight towards the original monster. It faltered, taken aback by the boldness. Thomas screamed as he charged, and the Griever revved to life. They went head-on at each other. Just as they were going to collide, Thomas threw himself to the side. It zoomed right past him. 

It didn't hesitate, swirling around with a rageful, metallic howl. But Thomas wasn't surrounded anymore, and a flicker of hope returned to him. That was his driving force, hope. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted away from the angry beasts he left behind. 

He held onto his hope desperately, even as he pushed way beyond his physical limits and could feel his body threatening to shut down. He ran on. He was passing a third corridor when something stopped his momentum and pulled him into the adjoining hallway. He kicked and flailed and struggled until he saw Minho's face. 

"Minho?-" 

"Shut up and follow me!" he hissed, already dragging him along as he went. 

Together, they ran through the corridors. Minho seemed to know exactly what he was doing, where he was going. As they rounded another corner, Minho spoke up- best he could anyway, "I just saw... That dive move... You did there... Got an idea... Just hafta last... a little longer..." 

Thomas didn't bother wasting precious air to ask questions. If Minho could get them out of here, if Thomas could see Newt's face again and feel him again, he'd cut off his own right arm if Minho said so. 

They went down another corridor, but this one was different. There seemed to be the slightest hint of light- but not that from a beetle blade or Griever. Thomas saw why very soon. It was like he was staring into a dark sky ahead. Stars, he could see them ahead. Thomas briefly wondered if they had find the way out, but Minho didn't seem that excited. 

When they neared the random opening, Minho placed his hand against Thomas' chest, stopping him. Thomas peered into it. He understood now; there was no way out from here, unless death was your 'way out'. Empty air, everywhere. No visible ground anywhere in sight. 

It all clicked, their plan. 

Minho briefly tried to explain, but Thomas hushed him. He knew already. They stood close, taunt, ready. For whatever reason, the Grievers lined up single file. One after another, they rolled towards the boys with amazing speed. Minho held Thomas' arm as if Thomas would chicken out, "Not yet... Not yet..." 

When the Griever was close enough Thomas could've reached out and touched it, Minho screamed; "Now!" 

The boys threw themselves to opposite sides. Off went the first Griever, then the second, then the third, but not the fourth. It stopped itself just in time. Instinctively, Thomas turned to Minho. Minho apparently knew too, because he nodded. Both boys sprinted towards the Griever, jumping and kicking with both legs. Both connected. And the last monster spilled over the edge. 

They did it. They really did it. The feelings were overwhelming. Thomas curled into an exhausted ball on the floor. 

Then began to sob.


	14. Chapter Twenty-Two/Twenty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope AO3 gets this slow thing fixed pretty quick, I know they said they're working on it, but I'm so impatient XD 
> 
> Anyways! Another update before bed; ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

A half hour of Minho's silence and Thomas' sobs passed. 

No one spoke a word. Minho didn't comfort him, but he didn't tell him to stop either. Thomas had no idea what Minho thought of him or what he would tell or wouldn't tell the others, but he couldn't help it. No part of him doubted, even without his memory, that that was hands-down the worst, more traumatic night he had ever had. 

Eventually, his sobs finally ceased. And the silence continued. He rolled onto his back, groaning at the pain. It was everywhere, aching and reminding him that he went way beyond his physical limits. On the brightside, the Doors would be opening soon. A sudden burst of excitement shot through him; they were gonna make it, he was really going to see Newt again. 

With the thought of the second-in-command came the grim reminder of Newt's higher-up. "We got to go get Alby," Thomas blurted. 

Minho looked at him before Thomas added; "Gotta get him of the wall." 

All that proved to do was confuse Minho more. Thomas explained quickly what he had done with the ropes of ivy. Minho looked down, "There's no way he's still alive..." 

Thomas refused to take this pessimism, not after what they accomplished. He quickly shot down Minho's negative behavior and started that way. Minho didn't argue, just followed. They walked so slow, they're bodies too tired to allow anything quicker. They briefly discussed theories about the Cliff and the stinging as they walked. Thomas found out that besides the fact it showed up with their supplies and it saved those stung, the Gladers didn't know much more about the Serum. 

They rounded another corner, Thomas seeing a flash of movement. He almost turned on his heels and ran, but then he saw it was a group of Gladers. Newt leading them. The moment Newt noticed Thomas, his face lit up in a mixture of shock and joy. He began limping over quickly. Thomas couldn't keep the smile off his face; he opened his arms for the hug he guessed was coming, as if his very soul commanded it. 

He didn't get a hug. 

When Newt reached him he slapped him square across the face, "What in the bloody Hell were you thinking!?" he shouted, everyone watching in silent surprise. 

Thomas put a hand to his face. When he turned back, Newt stretched forward and grabbed Thomas' face, on his toes ever-so-slightly to press his lips against Thomas. The kiss was hard and urgent and Newt's lips shook with emotion the entire time. Thomas wrapped his arms strongly around Newt, pulling him in as close as possible. Newt was so precious to him, he was so worried if he let go he'd lose him. He couldn't lose him. 

When they pulled away, Newt's fluttering eyes looked at Thomas' lips for a moment. He looked unsure as he looked up at Thomas. His mouth halted for a moment before he could speak, then he blurted it out, "I think I love you." he whispered, his voice somehow cracking despite the quiet. 

Thomas' heart skipped a beat. Love? He thought about the way every time he saw Newt, his gaze lingered so much longer than intended. He thought about how every thought of Newt lasted on and on. How every accidental brush of their skin, locking of their stares, and long conversation sent warm chills through him. Love. It made sense now. He was madly, hopelessly in love with Newt. Absolutely infatuated. 

"I love you too," he said, finding his own voice cracking. 

Someone cleared their throat and Thomas turned to see Minho staring. "Um, woah. So that was unexpected and I hate to ruin the moment, but, uh, Alby?" 

Thomas suddenly felt incredibly awkward, eyes briefly looking over all the staring Gladers. He laughed nervously, his eyes seeming to naturally find their way back to Newt, "Heh, oh yeah." 

Newt backed up a little, but their hands found each other. Thomas just couldn't let go. 

They started heading back. "Alby's alive?" Newt asked, face white. 

Thomas nodded, "Yeah. Well, he was when I was with him last." he offered a reassuring smile. 

When they made it to where Alby was, a small gasp escaped Newt's mouth as he stared at his friend hanging from the ivy. "Is he... alive?" he squeaked. 

The hope in Newt's eyes was almost too much. 'Oh God, please be alive, for Newt, please,' he thought. Newt looked at their joined hands and looked so miserable to have to separate them, "I think you and Minho should go get some food, sleep, whatever you need." 

Thomas opened his mouth to protest, his heart breaking at the request. He just wanted to be with Newt, to hold his hand. Hell, just being near him would be enough, but Minho grabbed his arm and pulled, "We need water. Bed. And bandages, now." he said firmly. 

Thomas relented, casting a hesitant, sad glance at Newt. Newt gave him a little smile and nodded, "I'll see ya in a bit." he said softly. 

Thomas felt like crying, he just got him back. Thomas pulled himself (somehow) from Minho and grabbed Newt's chin, tilting his head back and kissing him again. They parted after the gentle kiss and Thomas frowned, "I'll see you soon," he said, painfully releasing Newt and heading out with Minho. 

Once they were out of ear-shot, Minho spoke up, just like Thomas knew he would, "Okay dude, since when?" 

Thomas rolled his eyes, "Yesterday. For like a second." 

Minho looked over and smirked at him. Thomas looked over at him and Minho winked teasingly. Thomas punched him in the shoulder, hurting both of them. 

 

Thomas couldn't tell if it had been hours or days, but he awoke to Chuck shaking him. Thomas groaned, "Leave me alone," he whined. 

"It's Alby," the boy said quickly. 

Thomas turned to him, rubbing his eyes to shoo the sleep away, "Alby? What happened?" 

A big smile found Chuck's face, making Thomas smile too. "He's okay, the Serum worked," Chuck said excitedly yet gently. He seemed to be somewhat curtious of Thomas' exhaustion. Any hint of grogginess he had died off. 

"He just started the Changing," Chuck said, the words breaking down Thomas' high. 

Then, as if to confirm, a blood-curdling scream erupted from the hall. 

 

Twilight fell upon the Glade, Alby's screams of agony and anguish still fresh and loud. Thomas finally talked the Med-jacks into letting him go. Thomas wanted to check up on Alby, but Newt adamantly advised against it. Thomas didn't argue, he hadn't been in there for the past couple hours after all. Tiredly, Thomas wandered to a bench and sat around, hoping Newt would be able to break from dealing with Alby and come see him. He missed him so bad he could feel his heart /crying/ for his presence. 

Eventually, he heard footsteps through the slim brush. Chuck. But the boy had brought Thomas dinner and a big glass of water. "Thanks," Thomas said, smiling warmly. Chuck was a good kid. 

The moment Thomas started eating was the moment he realized he was absolutely starving. "Oh God Chuck, I so needed this," he said through mouthfuls of beef and noodles. 

"You're gross when you eat," Chuck said teasingly. 

"So funny," Thomas remarked, making sure he said it through a big mouthful of food. 

Chuck laughed, then spoke up again, "Oh that reminds me, you're talk of the town big-shot." 

Thomas took a big swig of his water, "What do you mean?" he asked. 

"Oh I wonder why," he said with a roll of his eyes, "it's not like you survived a night in the Maze, killed Grievers, saved Alby's life and then smooched Newt in front of a bunch of people. I couldn't even begin to imagine what the shanks are talking about," Chuck said sarcastically. 

Thomas was half proud, half disgusted by that pride, and completely embarrassed. Chuck smirked at Thomas' noticeably red cheeks and nudged him, "So I'm guessing things worked out with Newt?" he said with a certain urgency in his voice, as if he could tell Thomas didn't really want to talk about the other stuff for awhile. Thank God for that kid. 

"I guess they did," Thomas said with a small smile. 

As if on cue, Newt limped over to them. He looked like death on two feet and Thomas' heart ached for him. Thomas rose to his feet on Newt's arrival, but Newt just waved his hand dismissively and sat on the ground in front of their bench. He looked as tired and sad as anyone could. Despite all that, Thomas was thrilled to have him around. Thomas abandoned his place on the bench to sit beside him. 

"I think the worst part's over," he said, resting his head on Thomas' shoulder, "he should be sleepin' for a couple days." 

Thomas just took Newt's hand in his; he couldn't even begin to imagine how bad the whole ordeal must be up close. He wanted to ask about the Changing, but didn't want to make Newt anymore upset than he already was. Chuck just watched them, a look of admiration and happiness for them on his little shuck face. "The girl's still in the buggin' coma, too," Newt added, his stress and fatigue in his voice. 

Thomas rubbed his thumb over the back of Newt's hand, Newt was stressed- not only dealing with the head-honcho in the Changing, but now the girl all on his own, and being completely in charge of the Maze. "Tommy," Newt said after a pleasant silence, "you've turned this whole place upside down. Keepers wanna have a Gatherin' and discuss these things. You gotta be there." 

Thomas had no idea what any of that meant, and when he asked, Newt just told him to relax. So he did. He'd rather just sit in the grass with him all day than worry about any of that junk. 

He didn't even get that. When a scream came from the Homestead, Newt gave Thomas a kiss and left, promising to return later. And once again, Thomas was left watching him go, craving nothing but his presence.


	15. Chapter Twenty-Four/Twenty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found a crack video that just made me laugh. For awhile xD 
> 
> If you wanna check it out (and haven't already seen it) There's the link!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4D-fnG8fr4
> 
> ***Credits to the owner***  
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

The Gathering wasted no time beginning. Thomas found himself in a chair beside Newt (which was apparently not usual because Gally threw a fit), anxious and nervous. Eleven other boys occupied the chairs, the Keepers. One chair was empty. No one needed to tell him it belonged to Alby. All eyes were on him, or at least flickered onto him occasionally. He wasn't cold but he shivered. Newt rested his hand on Thomas' leg, "Everything's fine," he reassured, "you're fine." 

Thomas nodded to him, finding some resolve in Newt's eyes. He didn't know what he'd do if Newt wasn't there.

Newt removed his hand as he began to speak, "In place of our sick leader, I declare the Gatherings begun," he said with a subtle roll of his eyes. 

"Yeah, we're here because Thomas is a rule-breaker," Gally spat cruelly. Somehow being seated safely and having no choice but to listen was a thousand times worse than direct confrontation with Gally.

"Gally," Newt said sharply, "try to keep some buggin' order. If you're gonna be a blabber mouth then go ahead and bloody leave; I ain't in the mood for it." Thomas did all he could to keep his smile on the inside.

Gally folded his arms and leaned back in his chair with a hateful scoff. Newt's glare lingered on Gally for a moment, as if a warning, before he continued addressing everyone, "Reason we're here is cause we need to decide what to do about the other day." Gally tried to speak, but Newt shot him down, "You'll have your chance, Gally." Newt turned to Thomas, his features softening, "An' you're not aloud to talk until we tell ya too, okay?" Thomas nodded. Newt nodded to Zart, "You start." 

Zart shrugged, "I don't know. He broke the most important rule, we can't just let people think that's okay." he paused. "But then again, he's changed things. Now we know we can survive. It's not impossible to beat Grievers."

"Okay give me a break," Gally spat, "I bet Minho's the one who actually-"

"Shut your hole, Gally!" Newt yelled, standing this time. Thomas couldn't keep the smile off his face that time. "I'm the bloody Chair right now and if I you buggin' interrupt again, I'll be arrangin' another bloody Banishing for your sorry butt!" 

Gally scowled and leaned back in his chair again. Newt huffed as he sat back down. Thomas wished they weren't in such a formal event or he'd had grabbed Newt's face and kissed him harder than he had yet. 

"Any official recommendations?" Newt asked Zart, who just shook his head in return.

"Good that. Frypan."

Frypan smiled, "Shank's got more guts than I've ever fried up, that's for sure. How stupid is this? He saves Alby's life, kills a couple Grievers, and we're sitting here yapping about what to do with him." 

Thomas suddenly wished he spoke with Frypan and Zart more. 

"So what're ya recommendin'?" Newt asked.

Frypan crossed his arms, "Put him on the freaking trial and have him teach us whatever the hell he did out there." Voices erupted as if Frypan had just had suggested burning down the Glade. It took Newt a minute to calm everyone down. Newt looked as if he was considering it, "Alright, writin' that down," he said, scribbling some words down on a notepad.

Newt pointed to some kid Thomas hadn't met yet. "I don't really have an opinion."

Newt's shoulders slumped and he looked annoyed, "What?" 

The kid shrugged, "Sorry! I guess I agree with Frypan; don't think we should be punishing him for saving lives and bringing a bit of hope in this place." 

Newt nodded and scribbled something down. Thomas felt much better than when he arrived here. It seemed so far that most of the Keepers were on his side after all. Although, he was having a hard time following Newt's orders of not speaking, but he held his tongue. 

Next was Winston, "I think he should be punished. Nothin' personal Greenie, Newt. But seriously man, you're always harping about order. I get he's your boyfriend or whatever, but if we let this slide, we'll be settin' a bad example." 

Newt looked like he was holding back a scowl, "Okay," he said, beginning to scribble something on the notepad, "what're ya recommendin'?" 

"Slammer. A week; nothin' but bread and water and make sure everyone knows about it." 

Newt and Thomas seemed to wince just a bit in perfect sync. Meanwhile, Gally clapped, earning a scowl so strong from Newt, Thomas thought Gally might just start on fire then and there. 

Two more Keepers spoke; one for Frypan's idea, one for Winston's. When it was Newt's turn, he seemed unsure- trying to choose between what he wanted and what he should do. He ended up withholding any recommendations until the end. Thomas didn't like all the punishment talk, but he understood. He had broken a major rule. 

And down the line they went, some wanting him praised, others wanting him punished. Or both. Then it was Gally's turn, "I think I've made my opinion pretty clear already." 

Newt subtly rolled his eyes, "Good that, go on then, Minho." 

"No!" Gally yelled, making a couple Keepers- including Newt- jump slightly in their seats. "I still wanna say something." 

"Then bloody say it!" Newt snapped, sounding utterly annoyed. 

"Just think about it," Gally began, "this slinthead comes up in the Box, acting all confused and scared. A few days later, he's running around the Maze with Grievers, acting like he owns the place." Thomas felt a spike of panic, praying to God that none of the others thought something so ridiculous. Gally continued, "I think it was an all an act. How could he have done what he did out there after just a couple days? I'm not buyin' it." 

"What're you trying to say Gally?" Newt asked, "why not get to the bloody point?" he said, almost challengingly. 

"I think he's a Creator's spy." 

And came another uproar. Thomas couldn't do anything but shake his head to people. Newt didn't seem to buy what Gally had said, but Thomas worriedly shook his head at Newt as well. 'Oh please, don't believe that,' he thought. 

Newt reached over and squeezed Thomas' hand briefly before he started shutting everybody up. 

"We can't trust this shank," Gally continued yet again, "Days after he shows up, some physco girl shows up, talking about how things are gonna change, clutching that freaky note! We find a dead Griever, Thomas conveniently finds himself in the Maze and is now trying to convince everyone he's the hero." 

Silence fell over the room, making Thomas panic. 'They're not actually believing this klunk, right?' "Too many weird things going on, and it all started when the shuck-face Greenie showed up. And he just happens to be the first person to survive a night in the Maze. Something ain't right. Until we figure it out, I recommend that we lock his butt in the Slammer- a month." Gally- hopefully- finished. 

Newt shook his head the entire time he wrote down Gally's suggestion, giving Thomas a pang of relief and hope. Newt nodded to Minho. 

"I was out there," Minho said, standing, "I saw what this shank did. He stayed strong despite his fear while I ran like a baby when I was scared. I'm not gonna blab on like Gally, I'm just gonna say my recommendation and be done with it." 

"Good that," Newt said, sounding relieved for the first time since the Gathering began. 

"I nominate this shank to replace me as the Keeper of the Runners." 

 

Silence followed Minho's bold statement. Until Gally broke it, of course. He stood up, getting right in Newt's face and jabbing a finger towards Minho, "That's ridiculous!" he shouted, "he should be kicked off the Council for sayin' something so stupid!" 

Thomas had to fight the urge to stand up and shove Gally right back in his chair. He was too close to Newt and being an asshole- suggesting they kick one of his closest friends off the Council. Thomas wasn't sure when he started considering Minho a close friend, but he certainly wasn't doubting it. A couple Keepers actually agreed with Minho's suggestion. Other's didn't. Finally, growing tired of the chaos, Newt placed his notepad down angrily, stood up- shoving Gally back as he did so, getting himself some space- and started screaming at people to shut up. 

At first, no one seemed to even acknowledge Newt and once again, Thomas was fighting the urge to get up and do something about it. But gradually, they all started quieting down. Once Newt gave everyone a stern talking to and an even scarier look, everyone shut up. Including Gally. "Good that," Newt said, mostly to himself as he sat back down beside Thomas. "That's pretty serious brother," Newt said to Minho as he scribbled more stuff down on his notepad, "sorry man, but you're gonna have to back that up with somethin'." 

Minho looked exhausted, but began defending his claim; "It's so easy for you shanks to sit around here and talk about something y'all know nothing about. I'm the only Runner on this group, and the only other person in here who's been in the Maze is Newt." 

Gally interjected: "Not if you count the time I-" 

"I don't!" Minho yelled, turning on him like a snake, "And believe me, nobody else has the slightest clue what it's like to be out there- including you. The only reason you were stung was because you broke the same rule you're blaming Thomas for you shucked-face, hypocritical, piece of-" 

"Enough," Newt said, despite the look of amusement on his face, "Just defend your proposal." 

"Anyway," Minho continued as told, "I've never seen anything like it. He didn't panic. He didn't whine and cry. Dude, he'd been there for just a few days. Think about what we were all like in the beginning. Huddling in corners, disoriented, crying constantly, not trusting nobody and refusing to do a damn thing. Just a few days after this guy shows up, he steps out into the Maze to save two shanks he hardly knows. All this klunk about breaking a rule is beyond stupid. He didn't get the rules yet, and he still stepped out there. As the damn Door was closing in on him; only caring about the two people he was trying to save. 

"But that was just the beginning. Alby was messed up, and the Grievers were coming, we knew that. I bolted, too scared to protect- or at least lead- a freaking Newbie and our dying leader. He stayed. He freaking pushed Alby up the damn wall inch by inch; most of us would've given up in a damn second. Then came the Grievers. He took control. He-" 

"We get the point," Gally snapped. 

Minho rounded on him and if Thomas hadn't known better, he would've expected Minho to kill him, "No you worthless shank, you don't get it! For you to say anything..." he paused, rubbing his tired eyes in frustration. Gally tried to challenge Minho, and Minho did anything but back down. Newt and Winston had to pull Minho back. Gally jumped up, red and fuming. Luckily for him, he didn't make a move on Minho. Just stormed out, pausing at the door, "You are gonna regret that Minho; so bad!" he suddenly turned to Newt, "and you! I know you hate me, you should be Banished for your embarrassing skills as a leader. You're shameful-" 

Thomas shot up, ready to charge right over there and shut Gally's mouth. Minho was on his feet in a second, pressing his hand against Thomas' chest while Newt scrambled up and grabbed his arm, holding him back.

Gally scoffed, "Whatever you came here for, I swear on my life I'm gonna stop it. Kill you if I have to." Then he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.


	16. Chapter Twenty-Six/Twenty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I have to write an essay for English. I was all excited when I found out it was a narrative, but the prompt turned out to be totally lame. Oh well! I'll do that after this update ;p ... And maybe a couple more. 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Thomas stood, Minho's hand already off him, but Newt still holding his arm. He felt sick to his stomach; hearing a person hates you to the point of wanting to kill you was a sickening thing.

Eventually, after a couple tugs on his arm that Thomas found adorable, despite the situation, Newt led Thomas back to his chair and they sat down. They, as in anyone except Thomas, spoke of what should be done with Gally; Minho having the excellent idea of sending someone after him and throwing him in the Slammer. He was dangerous. 

But then Winston said something that took the room by surprise; "Maybe he had a good point." 

"What?" Minho and Newt asked in perfect sync. 

Winston looked surprised as all eyes found him, as if saying Thomas should be killed wasn't a surprising thing to say. "Well... he has been through the Changing. Griever stung him in the middle of the day just outside the West Door. That means he has memories, why would he make that up?" 

"Winston, did you see what just happened?" Frypan asked, "Gally's psycho. You can't put too much stock in his rambling nonsense. What, you think Thomas is a Griever in disguise?" 

"Can I say something now?" Thomas finally blurted out, not able to stand it anymore. 

Newt looked up at him and nodded, "Go ahead." 

Thomas nodded briefly to Newt, then faced the rest of them. He took in a breath, collecting his thoughts for a moment. He had one shot at this. "Okay. So I don't know why Gally hates me, I don't care either. He seems insane as far as I can tell. As for who I actually am, you all know just as much as I do. But if I remember correctly, we're here because I did something in the Maze, not because Gally thinks I'm evil." 

Newt smiled at him, making Thomas advert his gaze. When something so dazzling catches you off guard, it's impossible to not back down. "Good that, let's get this meeting over with and worry about Gally later." 

"Alright Tommy," Newt continued, suddenly so softly and personal, he had to look up and meet his eyes, "defend yourself and then we'll decide." he said with a slight nod. 

Thomas' eyes lingered on Newt's for a moment or two before he cleared his throat and faced forward, squeezing his fists. "I didn't do anything wrong. All I know is I saw two people struggling to get inside these walls and they couldn't make it. To ignore their lives because of some stupid rule seemed selfish and cowardly to me. And... well, stupid. If you want to throw me in jail for trying to save someone's life, then go ahead. I promise I'll point at them and laugh." 

Newt spoke up about a second after Thomas finished, "Here's my suggestion." everyone's eyes found Newt, who read over the words on the paper in front of him, "Number One rule was broken- a day in the Slammer. I also recommend we elect you as a Runner, effective the second this bloody meetin' adjourns. You proved more in one night than most trainees do in weeks." 

Thomas felt relieved. A day in the Slammer sounded a Hell of a lot better than a month. And he was going to be a Runner. The vote for Newt's recommendation was unanimous, except Winston; "I have nothing against it, I just don't think we should completely ignore what Gally said." 

"Fair enough," Newt said. 

Thomas looked at Newt, not sure what he should do now. The meeting seemed over, people were getting up to leave. Newt stood and motioned for Thomas to follow. They walked into the hall and Newt leaned against the wall, looking at Thomas, "You feeling okay?" 

"Fine," Thomas said, taking Newt's hands; sitting through the entire meeting without touching Newt was torture, "so what's the plan?" 

Newt sighed, "Well you're a Runner..." 

Thomas frowned and gave Newt's hands a squeeze to keep his eyes on him, "Hey. Are you okay?" 

Newt looked up at him and huffed, "Runnin' is a dangerous thing, Tommy. Just be careful, ya hear? It's just-" he stopped himself, shaking his head, "I'm proud of you." he added quickly. 

Thomas leaned forward, resting his forehead on Newt's, "You don't have to worry, okay? I'd be damned if I'd let anything happen to me out there while you were waiting for me here," he smiled. 

Newt smiled back and leaned forward, kissing him. Thomas smiled into it and found himself slightly pressing Newt more against the wall without even realizing. 

"Eh-hem." 

They pulled away and looked over at Minho. Minho looked awkward, "Um. So, punishment or training today cause if he's coming with me, we gotta get going." 

Newt cleared his throat and straightened up, having shrunk under Thomas slightly, his cheeks red, "Training today," he said with a nod, barely able to look Minho in the face. Thomas couldn't help but find Newt's embarrassment cute. 

Minho punched Thomas' arm playfully, "C'mon Casanova, you're mine now." 

Thomas punched him back, "Give me a freaking minute," he said, smiling. Two of his three favorite people were right here, it'd be a shame to break this up. 

And then came the third. 

Chuck stood there, looking like he'd just been chased by a Griever. Thomas' smile fell and he walked over, placing a hand on Chuck's shoulder, "What happened?" he asked urgently, worried someone had started something with Chuck or something. He felt Newt right behind him. 

"Med-jacks sent me," he said, his voice so small and innocent and frightened, Thomas felt the need to just hide him away from all the bad things of the world. 

"What happened?" Newt asked, his tone rushed and worried. 

"It's Alby," he said, glancing between Thomas and Newt, "he's thrashin' around and acting all crazy, he telling them he wants to talk to Thomas."

 

The shocked silence didn't last as Newt grabbed Thomas' hand, "C'mon, I'm going with ya." 

Thomas followed of course, and heard Chuck following behind him. Thomas reached out with his free hand, resting it on Chuck's shoulder as they walked. Once they reached the doorway, Newt shot Chuck a look, "Stay." 

Chuck simply nodded and looked at Thomas, looking frightened. Thomas clasped Chuck's shoulder, "I'll be back soon; tell ya all about how they've elected me Runner." he offered the kid a smile before turning and following Newt inside. 

Newt stepped into the room, Thomas right behind him. He had expected chaos, but instead there was just a very weak-looking Alby lying on the bed. Eyes closed, still. Newt walked over and sat in the wooden chair beside the bed, pulling it in closer as he did so, "Alby," he said softly, "Chuck said you wanted to talk to Tommy; got 'im here." 

Alby's eyes fluttered open in response. He stared at Newt for a moment, then flicked them over to Thomas. "Yeah," he groaned, heaving himself into a sitting position. 

"Chuck said you were thrashin' around, you feelin' crappy still?" Newt asked, as gently as if he were treading on glass. 

Alby wheezed, "Everything's gonna... change. The girl... Thomas... I saw them..." his eyelids flickered before sinking back into a laying position, "Don't feel so good." 

"What do you mean, you saw-" 

Apparently the glass broke. Alby shot up and screamed; "I wanted Thomas!" so loud that Newt's entire body shuddered and he almost stumbled out of his chair. "I didn't ask for you Newt! I didn't want you! I asked for freaking Thomas! Thomas!" 

Newt had put some space between him and Alby after the recoil, "Geez, fine," Newt said, nodding at Thomas, "he's here-" 

"Leave," Alby growled, looking like an ill animal. 

Newt's face fell, "No way, I wanna hear." 

"Newt." A pause. "Leave now." 

"But-" Newt protested, his voice sounding almost sad. 

"Out!" Alby screamed, sitting up as he did so, his voice shaking with the effort. "Get out!" he howled. 

Thomas had never seen Newt look so hurt. Newt stared, tense and unwilling for a moment before rising from his chair and walking to the door, "Don't expect me to come kissin' your butt when you come cryin' to me." 

"Close the door!" Alby yelled cruelly. 

Newt glared, looking more hurt than angry and slammed the door behind him. Thomas frowned at the door; he wanted to follow and hug him or something. 

"I know who you are," Alby said suddenly. 

Thomas didn't quite know how to reply. He was confused and scared; could he really know who he was? 

"I know who you are," Alby repeated, "I know where you're from. I know who the girl is. I know about the Flare." 

Thomas rose an eyebrow, "I don't know what you're talking about-- who am I?" 

"It ain't pretty," Alby muttered. "It's horrible, ya know. Why would those shucks want us to remember? Why can't we just live here and be happy?" 

"Alby..." Thomas wished he could take a peek into his mind. God, he wanted to know. "What happened? What did you see?" 

"You-" Alby started before his hands seemed to involuntarily reach up and begin choking himself. His legs kicked and he rolled onto his side, thrashing back and forth. Thomas stumbled back, terrified. "Alby!" Thomas yelled, fearfully, "Newt!" 

The door flung open and Newt took a quick look around before sprinting over to Alby. He grabbed Alby's shoulders and pinned him to the bed, half whining and half grunting with effort, "Get his legs!" 

Thomas moved forward, but Alby's legs kicked and flailed. Thomas stumbled backwards as he was kicked in the jaw, pain erupting through his entire skull. He ignored it and just threw himself on Alby's legs. He grabbed them both and pinned them. Newt positioned a knee on Alby's shoulder and grabbed Alby's hands, trying to pry them away from his throat. "Let go!" Newt yelled, sounding desperate and panicked, "you're killing yourself!" 

Thomas could see Newt's veins straining against his skin as he pulled with everything he had. It took so long, but Newt managed to get the hands away and he pressed them firmly against Alby's heaving chest. Alby's entire body jerked a couple times before he slowly calmed and a few seconds later, he lay still. 

Thomas was afraid to move from Alby's legs. Newt apparently shared the same fear because he held Alby's hand for a whole minute before slowly releasing. Alby looked up, his eyes droopy and glazed and looking slightly sad, "I'm sorry, Newt, I'm so sorry, don't know what got into me." 

Newt just shook his head, "You were bloody tryin' to kill yourself,"

"Wasn't me, I swear, somethin' was controllin' me." 

Newt dropped the conversation. Newt threw the blankets that had fallen off the bed over his shoulder and then helped Alby back onto the bed before draping them over him; caring after him like a mother would, or a close brother. It was a bittersweet sight. "Get your butt to sleep, we'll talk about it later," Newt said kindly. 

Alby was already drifting off, nodding slightly as his eyes slid shut. Newt nodded towards the door and he and Thomas quietly headed that way. Just as they were softly closing the door, Alby blurted; "Be careful of the girl." 

Newt looked at Thomas, confused. Thomas just shrugged. "And Newt?" Alby added. 

"Yeah?" 

"Protect the Maps." he said, rolling over and falling asleep. 

He and Newt exchanged glances before softly shutting the door.


	17. Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO. Short chapter, not even all of 28- I was going to do the usual double-chapter, but I forgot about Knowledge Bowl today! So, I gotta go!! I'll finish chapter 28 and possibly do two additional chapters WITH 28, then post ANOTHER double chapter. It all depends on how late I babysit-- Enjoy!

As they headed out, Thomas took Newt's hand. They walked out of the Homestead, both eager to get away from there. The bright light of mid-afternoon reflected off Newt's eyes and once again, Thomas found himself falling deeper in love despite the situation. 

"Hungry, Tommy?" Newt asked when they were a fair distance from the Homestead. 

Thomas looked at Newt, surprised, and gave a little laugh, "What? Hell no, not after that." 

Newt laughed a little, "Well I am. Let's go see what we can get."

They made their way directly to the kitchen. They were able to get some sandwiches and veggies. Thomas couldn't help but notice how Frypan's eyes darted whenever they found each other's; somehow Thomas knew this was how it was going to be. Newt and Thomas decided they'd eat outside and somewhere somewhat secluded; have a little alone time. 

They settled down near the West Door, absently watching the Glade. Thomas forced himself to eat, knowing he'd need strength. "Ever seen that happen before?" Thomas asked, breaking the silence. 

"What Alby did? No. Never. Then again, no one's ever tried to tell us what they saw durin' the Changing either. Seems suspicious to me," Newt said thoughtfully. 

Thomas thought for a moment. Maybe Newt had a point; maybe the Maze or the Creators or whatever could control people. Maybe only if they've been injected with the Serum. He shivered at the thought. 

"We need to find Gally," Newt said through a bite of carrot. "Buggers gone off and hid somewhere; need to find his loony butt and throw 'im in the Slammer." 

"Serious?" Thomas asked, somewhat excited at the thought of throwing Gally behind bars. 

"The shank threatened to kill you, Tommy," Newt looked up at him and gave a little smile, "gotta make sure that never happens. He's gonna pay for talkin' like that; completely unacceptable." 

Thomas smiled over at him a little, "Yeah." 

"Here's how it'll play out, Tommy," Newt said. "You're with me the rest of today, tomorrow- Slammer, and then you're Minho's. Okay?" 

Thomas smiled and rested his hand on Newt's, "That sounds amazing to me." 

"But we do need to talk about something. Something I would love to avoid just as much as you do, but it's been said too many times to ignore." Newt said, smile fading. 

Thomas knew exactly what he was talking about. Newt continued, "Gally said it, Alby said it, Ben said it, the girl said it- they all said things were going to change." 

"And accordin' to Gally and Ben," he continued, "they saw ya and it wasn't pretty." 

Thomas started panicking slightly; what if Newt was starting to trust him less? He didn't want Newt to be suspicious of him too. "Newt, I don't know-"

"I know you don't remember anything," Newt said quickly, "All I'm sayin' is that there's somethin' different about ya and we need to figure it out- the two of us- before more shanks come in here tryin' kill ya." 

Thomas sighed, feeling slightly frustrated, "How are we supposed to do that?"

"Just, be honest with me," he said, glancing over at him, "keep your mind open." 

Thomas began to deny but then thought about entering the Glade, sleeping beside Chuck in the grass; the place had felt like home, like he'd been there before. 

"I see wheels turnin'," Newt said, scooting so he was sitting criss-cross in front of him, "talk." 

Thomas hesitated. He wanted badly to tell him, but was also terrified. He didn't want Newt to feel the same way about him that Winston or Alby or even Gally felt. He didn't want to ruin anything they had made. But regardless, he knew he had to speak, "Well... I can't exactly put my finger on it, but I did feel like I'd been here before when I first got here." 

Newt stared blankly, "Well that's different." 

"Yeah," Thomas said, suddenly embarrassed, "things seemed familiar and I knew I needed to be a Runner." 

"Interesting," Newt said, studying Thomas for a moment, "Well keep lookin' for it. Strain for it, spend free time wanderin' your thoughts and let me know if anything else seems familiar or anything else makes sense." 

"I will," Thomas said with a nod. 

Newt smiled and rested his head on Thomas' shoulder. Thomas almost cried with relief, he was being distant or unsure, he was right here- close to him, holding his hand, resting his head on him. Thomas closed his eyes and rested his head on Newt's. As long as Newt trusted him, loved him, wanted him- things would be alright. 

They sat in the comfortable sunlight for awhile before Newt shifted, looking up at Thomas. He wanted to say something, but Thomas couldn't help himself, leaning forward and kissing him. They never got much alone time and Thomas was going to be damned if anyone beside them ended another kiss. Newt smiled as they parted, "You're makin' me forget what I was sayin'..." he muttered, his eyes trying so hard to meet Thomas' but falling to Thomas' lips every time. 

Thomas grinned and pushed Newt onto his back, giving him a second kiss that the blond boy's eyes had been /begging/ for. As they kissed, Thomas slid his hands up to Newt's and entwined them. For once, Thomas felt invincible. No interruptions, no danger; just them, kissing on the grass and under the brilliant sunlight. Thomas didn't know what Newt was going to say, or how long they had, but he hoped they had at least awhile longer. 

Eventually, Newt's head recoiled and Thomas pulled away to see Newt gasping for breath. Thomas laughed apologetically, "Oh oops," he smirked, "thought you could hold out longer." 

Newt threw a mischievous grin his way that suddenly made him feel breathless too, "Yeah, well you don't have another person on your chest, do you?"

Thomas laughed, "Snarky," he said teasingly. 

"Please, you have no idea yet, Tommy," he said with a wink. 

Thomas tired to keep his cool but utterly failed. His face flushed red and hid his face in the crook of Newt's neck, "Oh my gosh, Newt." 

Newt threw his head back laughing like a little kid, the sound was like a damn song- Thomas loved it, memorized it. Thomas laughed a little as well, Newt's laugh contagious before he left a light kiss on Newt's neck and rested his head right under Newt's chin. He was so freaking tired; what he'd give to just nap here. Newt gently wrapped his arms around Thomas' head, cradling it, just making him want to sleep more, "Tommy, I had actual business." he said softly, Thomas could hear the smile on his face. 

Thomas groaned, "What is it?" 

"The girl," Newt said, "I want ya to come see her; see if she rings any bells." 

Thomas groaned again and scooted forward, raising his head as he did so so their noses were touching, "Five more minutes," Thomas said, his eyes darting about Newt's every feature. 

Newt let his head plop back in the grass, "I guess so," he said with a grin, seeming glad Thomas asked. 

Thomas smiled and adjusted so he was laying right beside Newt rather than on him. Newt turned and buried his face in Thomas' chest, wrapping his arms around Thomas' torso. Thomas had his arms wrapped around Newt's waist, making sure they were right up against each other. Thomas nuzzled the top of Newt's head and smiled stupidly into the Keeper's hair. 

The sun was comfortably warm, the grass was pleasantly cool and the silence was thick but great, like a blanket. Thomas let himself doze off. In that moment, holding Newt with Newt's head buried into his chest, he couldn't have been happier. If things could be like this, just once in awhile, Thomas wouldn't care what came his way.


	18. Chapter Twenty-Eight (Continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya people! I'm super tired, but I figured I should at least finish up Chapter Twenty-Eight!! Enjoy! 
> 
> Oh and off topic: But my girly friend bought me The Death Cure and Kill Order which is awesome- I was stressin' about having to write the Newtmas version of Death Cure cause it was the only one of the main trilogy I didn't have but then she got it for me :D And also a super sweet "You're the best girlfriend in the world" card- no special occasion or anything, she's just sweet. 
> 
> Sorry, sorry, I rambled!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

After their blissful couple minutes that seemed entirely too short, they got to their feet; going to see the girl to see if she rang any bells or triggered any memories. The boys walked back to the Homestead, hand-in-hand. Thomas had to admit, despite the crappiness of having to get up and go, that little break was just he needed. His chest felt light and even though he did nothing more but doze off for a moment, he felt well-rested. Like he had slept for a week. 

When they got there, Thomas was surprised at how peaceful she looked. Thomas obviously didn't remember ever being in a coma, but he couldn't imagine it was necessarily entertaining. Not to mention, Thomas had expected someone who liked like they were dying, but she wasn't even dropping weight. Not only that, her face looked fuller, more color. She looked healthier than he had ever seen her; not that he'd seen her much anyway, but regardless. 

Newt asked Clint- a Med-jack- if there had been any updates. Apparently she'd been saying Thomas' name over and over. Irritation coursed through him; why was he so different? Newt just slid a chair over to Thomas before pulling one of his own over, "Sit. Anything ringing any bells?" he asked as he sat down. 

Thomas didn't answer, staring at her, trying desperately to reach into his dark pit of memories and pull out something somewhat useful. It was like grasping into a void, he couldn't get ahold of a damn thing. Suddenly, he imagined her when she first emerged from the Box; with some life and character, however fleeting it may be. Then something brushed his consciousness. Something. It was gone before he could grasp it and think about it, but it was there. 

"I do know her," Thomas said quietly. He sat back in his chair, scooting it closely to Newt's. It felt nice to finally get that weight off his shoulders. 

Newt had to clasp his chair to keep himself from standing, "Who is she? How do you know her?" he asked urgently. 

"I couldn't tell ya, not now at least. But something clicked, I'm sure of that." Thomas rubbed his eyes, getting a headache from digging so far back in his mind. 

Newt relaxed. He bit at his lip and watched; he didn't need to say the words plastered across his face; Concentrate. Keep thinking. 

Thomas closed his eyes and for Newt's sake, pushed beyond the pain his head, searching blindly. He could feel something there, somewhere. But nothing solid. He sighed, not able to take the ache anymore. But then a voice in his head; 'Teresa'. 

Thomas jolted right up from his chair, knocking it backward, startling Newt. Thomas spun around searching; surely his first instinct was wrong. There was no way something that clear was in his head. It couldn't be... 

"What's wrong?" Newt asked, rising to his feet, concern across his face, "are you alright, Tommy?" 

Thomas didn't mean to ignore him, but he also couldn't focus on anything else. His eyes fell on the girl, "Newt, did you say something before I stood up?" 

"Uh, no?" 

"Did... Did she say something?" 

"Her?" Newt asked, glancing over at the sleeping girl, "No. Tommy, are you alright?" 

"I heard a voice," Thomas explained. "A name. You didn't hear it?" 

Newt shook his head, "Nothin'. Seriously Tommy, are you okay?" he asked, taking a step forward and resting nothing more than his fingertips on Thomas' hand. The touch was so delicate and worrisome, it felt nice. 

"Teresa," he said it aloud as if he'd forget it otherwise, "I heard that. Must've slipped from my memories or somethin'- I think. I think that's her name," Thomas said with a nod. 

'Thomas'

This time Thomas scrambled backwards, as far away from her as he could. Newt stood, looking shocked, "Tommy!?" 

Thomas bumped into something, sending glass breaking behind him. Newt spoke to him, but he didn't listen. The intrusion in his mind felt so unnatural, so wrong. "She's freaking talking to me!" Thomas shouted, pointing at her. He knew it, he knew without a doubt that was what was happening to him. 

Newt started towards him slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, "Calm down Tommy and just relax. What in the bloody hell's going on?" 

"Newt, she's freaking talking to me, in my head. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm serious!" 

'Tom, don't freak out on me' 

Thomas put his hands to his ears. It was too strange, too violating. He didn't like it, he wanted it to stop. He wanted her to shut up. 

'My memory's fading already, Tom. I won't remember much when I wake up. We can pass the Trials. It has to end. They sent me as the trigger.' 

Thomas couldn't take it anymore. He stumbled to the door; he thought he heard Newt calling to him, it was almost enough to make him turn back, but the roaring his mind- the feeling of it be open to someone else- proved to be too much. He yanked open the door and ran down the stairs, out the front door, just ran. But she wouldn't shut up. 

'Everything is going to change'

He wanted to scream, drown her out, get her out of his head. He ran all the way to the East Door and sprinted right through it, right out of the Glade. Surely he could get out of range or something, anything. He ran deep into the heart of the Maze. Turned at every corner, traveled down every corridor, whatever he thought would help- not thinking straight. Despite his efforts, her voice followed; 

'It was you and me, Tom. We did this to them. To us.'


	19. Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, spare me, but I was only able to do a single chapter update-- FOR NOW. I have some errands to run with mom, then homework, but then I'll post as much as possible guys! I PROMISE.

Thomas didn't stop until the voice did.

Then the shocking realization that he'd been running for about an hour hit him. Shadows were beginning to creep in. He had to get back. As he ran towards the Glade, he could only think about two things; how well he could find his way back and how hard he was going to get slapped when he returned. 

When he got back, he was exhausted, but he saw a certain someone sitting criss cross, facing the Door Thomas was currently emerging from. His face was so pale, but when he noticed Thomas, a shine found his eyes and a splash of color found his face. Newt scrambled up off the ground and ran over him. Thomas shut his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable slap. 

But instead, Newt crashed into him and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Thomas, surprised, relaxed and wrapped his arms around him back, "Newt, I am so sor-" 

Newt reached up and slapped the daylight out of him. 

Thomas stood there, rubbing his face. "Different order... Unexpected." 

Newt was fighting back a smile at the comment, but managed to hold his scolding look, "What in the bloody hell, Tommy, was THAT!?" 

Thomas looked at him, smiling sheepishly, "I had to get away from uh, her voice. In my head." 

Newt looked confused, but angry more than anything else. "I swear, Tommy, after these years in the Glade, YOU'RE gonna be the death of me," he grumbled. 

Newt wasn't pushing the whole voice thing, which Thomas was inexpressibly grateful for. He wrapped his hand in Newt's, "We should lay down somewhere, I'm so freaking tired..." 

The two found a place within the forest of the Deadheads; secluded, quiet, just what Thomas was looking for. Thomas almost immediately plopped down, Newt lowering himself as well. Newt laid on Thomas' chest, the two of them just staring off absently, "Are you alright, Tommy?" 

Thomas was already dozing off when Newt asked, "I'm fine..." he muttered, trying to fight off sleep, but losing that battle. 

 

When morning rolled around, someone shook him away. 

"Thomas, wake up," Chuck said- that kid had a talent for finding him. 

Groaning, Thomas leaned forward. He frowned a little when he only found a blanket on his chest, "Where'd Newt go?" 

"He wakes up too early for your lazy butt," Chuck said, "but he's lookin' out for ya." he said teasingly, pinching the blanket. 

Thomas couldn't help smile a little. "What time is it?" Thomas asked, suddenly in a much better mood. 

"Almost too late for breakfast," he said, tugging on Thomas' arm. "Let's go! You need to start acting normal or people are gonna notice and everything's gonna get worse!" 

Thomas thought about yesterday, about how crazy he would think someone was if he saw them pull what he did. The thought brought on the slighest panic; what if Newt thought he was bonkers? He'd have to convince him that the stress just finally got to him. With a look from Chuck, the boys set off for breakfast. 

Chuck talked and talked and talked; "This morning, after Newt hobbled all the way to the Homestead and back to leave ya a freaking blanket, he announced to the Gladers the results of the Council meeting. How you're spending a day in the Slammer today, and how you've been elected a Runner. Some Gladers were mad, some cheered, some didn't care, but me- I think that's pretty awesome." Chuck stopped to take a breath before continuing the everlasting rant. 

They made it to the kitchen and grabbed some food. Everyone glanced at Thomas on their ways in and out of the kitchen. Some offered nice smiles and congrats, while others just hit him with dirty looks. The meaner ones made Thomas think of something; "Oh hey Chuck, did they ever find Gally?" 

Chuck frowned, "Oh that. Someone said they saw him run into the Maze after the Gathering. Hasn't been back since." 

Thomas dropped his fork. "Serious?" 

"Yeah; he went nuts. Even accused you of killing him when he ran out of there," Chuck said. 

Thomas shook his head a little. Yeah, Gally was crazy and could use a couple attitude adjustments, but he never thought the kid would run out into the Maze like that. 

Chuck seemed rather casual about it, as if he didn't think the boy was dead. But something in his eyes told Thomas the kid knew somewhere deep down that the kid knew it. There was no doubt. 

Thomas rose to put his plate back, and when he turned, Newt was there, smiling. That grin sent a wave of reassurance through Thomas, as if he were finding out everything in the world was okay again. Thomas returned the smile, though he knew his must pale in comparison. Newt laughed slightly as Thomas took Newt's hand and pressed a kiss to the Keeper's ear- he had found a sensitive spot. 

Newt sent a friendly dig to Thomas' arm, "C'mon jailbird, Slammer time." 

The way Newt said it made Thomas actually somewhat excited about it. As they walked by, Thomas walking behind Newt so he could mess with him a little, squeezing at the blond's hips and waist, Chuck gave Thomas a teasing look and shook his head as if Newt and Thomas were complete immature children. Maybe they were. 

For whatever reason, Newt's presence made Thomas incredibly bubbly, as if he had missed him in his sleep. Thomas hugged Newt's waist from behind as they walked, making the walking a bit of a challenge, but worth it. "Don't suppose you could hang out in there with me?" Thomas asked into Newt's ear. 

"You wish," Newt said, grabbing Thomas' hands, trying to make the walking ordeal a bit easier, "It's only one day Tommy, you'll make it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That grin sent a wave of reassurance through Thomas, as if he were finding out everything in the world was okay again.
> 
> THAT was taken straight from the book; and people try to tell me Newtmas is unrealistic.


	20. Chapter Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for another single chapter update, I really hate only having time to make those T~T We JUST got back and it's 4 minutes 'till 10 and I have soooo much homework, but I felt the need to post just one!!!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

The Slammer was sort of pathetic. A square, concrete building with only one tiny, barred window. Newt slipped out the keys and began opening the locked door. Thomas sighed, "And you're sure you can't go with me?" he asked, joking of course. 

"If I could, I would, but I can't," he said, opening the door for him, "maybe next time, though." he said teasingly. 

Thomas rolled his eyes with a grin and craned his neck down, kissing a trail from Newt's jaw until he briefly held it on Newt's lips. When Thomas pulled away, Newt's face was flushed and looked up at Thomas, "Stop makin' we wanna join ya," he said, lightly shoving Thomas inside. 

Thomas smiled and they held hands for a moment, just giving a squeeze, before Thomas finally wandered all the way in and settled down on the single chair in the room. Besides the one piece of furniture, there was not a damn thing to do. "I'll see ya soon, Tommy," Newt said as the door closed, "we'll bring ya some lunch at noon." 

And then he was gone. 

***

The first hour passed and Thomas felt boredom creep into the cell with him. By the second hour, ripping out his hair seemed more fun than this. Two hours after that, he started having ridiculous fantasies- all of which horrible, and all of which he'd rather be doing right about now. He tried doing what Newt had told him to do, trying to think up memories, but all that happened was he lost his train his thought or something. 

Just as Thomas thought he was literally going to explode, Chuck and Newt plopped by the window. Thomas scrambled over to it, excited for some human interaction. Chuck passed Thomas his food through the window while he spoke, "Everything's getting back to normal finally," he said, "Runners are running, everyone's working, and Alby's up and about. No more of this guy being head honcho, thank God," Chuck said, pointing at Newt and laughing at his little joke. 

Newt gave him a look, "I did fine." 

"You did great," Thomas said with a smirk. 

Newt laughed a little and pulled a smile, "What a gentlemen." Suddenly, someone called for Newt, saying Alby needed him. Newt frowned and looked at Thomas, "Looks like I gotta go," he said sadly. 

Thomas frowned, "Oh alright." 

Newt waved briefly before rushing off. After a moment, Chuck spoke up again, "Thomas, I'm kinda messed up. It's weird to be all homesick and sad when you don't remember home, but I am, I really am. I don't even know what I want to go back to, I just want to go back to it. I don't wanna be here anymore. I want to go back to my family, or at least remember what I've lost." 

Thomas was a little taken aback. The mood shift was so sudden, especially to be coming from Chuck of all people. "I know..." Thomas muttered. 

"I used to cry every night." 

And Thomas could see it now, Chuck's miserable eyes as he said that. Even more so, he could see back when Chuck would cry. Just a kid, huddled up in a little ball, biting back noise that could awake any others as he cried over the way things were. It broke Thomas' heart immediately. So Thomas told Chuck about how he sobbed after the last Griever fell off the Cliff. 

A few silent moments passed. "Hey Thomas?" 

"Still here, buddy." 

"Do you think I have parents?" 

Thomas laughed, mostly to push away the surge of sadness the statement caused him. "Of course you do." 

"That's not what I meant," Chuck mumbled, "I mean... do you think it's possible I have a mom and dad who miss me everynight?" 

Thomas' eyes filled. For the first time, the protectiveness of an older brother Thomas had always somewhat felt became something else; alive and raw. He was mad. At the people who did this to Chuck, who took him away from his mom and dad. "Listen to me, Chuck. I know have you parents, I know it. I bet your mom sits in your room and night, holds your pillow, crying and staring out at the world who stole you from her." 

Chuck didn't say a word, but his sniffles answered the question as if he did. 

"Don't you ever give up, Chuck," Thomas continued, "I'm a Runner now- and I swear to you, I'm gonna save us. I'm gonna return Newt to his family, Minho to his, Alby, hell, even Gally if he shows up- and especially you." 

"I hope you're right," the boy answered before walking away. 

"I swear to you," he whispered to no one in particular, "I'll get you back home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much Newtmas in that one, sorry! Next one will, but I didn't wanna tamper with that chapter too much. It's pretty important and always gets me right in the feels. Hope you enjoyed!


	21. Chapter Thirty-One/Thirty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR SUCH A LATE UPDATE. I dropped my phone in a bowl of freaking water and had to walk to my friend's to tell her the plans for tomorrow... 
> 
> Speaking of which, anyone have any fun Halloween plans?? :D 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter my lovlies! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

Just as Thomas heard the doors of the Maze closing, he also heard keys in a lock at the door. A big, stupid smile found Thomas' face and he went running for the door, ready to fling his arms around Newt and give him a big kiss. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when the door swung open to reveal Alby. 

Thomas faltered, taking a half step back, "Alby... You're-" 

"Yeah, I'm up. Big shock," he said, closing the door behind Thomas as he walked out. 

Thomas couldn't help but staring at him. He looked so... healthy. So much better than before. Alby looked like he was going to bring up something important, but his train of thought changed its course, "Shuck it, boy, what're you staring at?" 

"Sorry, you just. Look so much better," Thomas explained, shaking off the trance. 

Alby shook his head, "Yeah, yeah. Well you and I boy, we need to talk." 

Thomas frowned, clenching his fists nervously. What could it POSSIBLY be; the Maze? The Gathering? The girl? 

"Heard you and Newt have gotten friendly." 

That was an unexpected turn. It took Thomas a moment to even begin to form a response, so taken aback by the topic. When it hit him, though, his cheeks burned and he cleared his throat, not able to keep his eyes from falling, "That's right," he said, glancing back up as quick as possible. 

Alby folded his arms, as if he had expected Thomas to deny it. "Alright. You listen up good now, ya here?" 

Thomas bit his tongue and nodded. Alby returned it and stared off for a moment, collecting his thoughts, jaws clenching a couple times before he actually began speaking, "Alright boy. Newt's a close friend of mine, he's been with me for literally as long as I can remember. And I've seen Newt in some bad spells. I've seen him in some damn good ones, too. But this is something else. I've never seen him so high; even when he's not tryin', he's beaming. And it's all about you. You have to understand that before I continue; ya understand?" 

Thomas was fighting back a smile and hoping his blush wasn't too obvious as he nodded. 

"Good that," Alby continued, "I can see it now; you decidin' he was fun for a bit, then kicking his sorry butt to the curb. I'm not sayin' that's gonna happen, you seem pretty in love or whatever you wanna call this- but it could. And I dunno how well Newt would pick himself back up. So I'm only gonna say this once, boy; If it hadn't been for you riskin' your freakin' life to save me and Minho, proving you were one damn good kid, I wouldn't even bein' allowin' this. I'd separate you boys so fast your head would be spinnin'. But I'm not gonna do that; I'm just gonna warn ya." he took a step closer for effect, and it worked, "you better not be playin' boy, cause he ain't. And if I find out ya are... You're gonna have a lot more to worry about than just Grievers. Good that?" 

Thomas knew he should've been intimidated by the threat or whatever, but he wasn't. He didn't worry about any of the consequences, he sure as hell wasn't going anywhere either. "Good that," he answered, voice certain. 

Alby seemed pleased with the strength of his voice and nodded, "Good that," he said again, sounding softer this time. The smallest smile on his face. Alby patted Thomas' shoulder, making him almost fall, "Go get some dinner, Greenie." 

Thomas grinned and nodded to Alby, heading straight for the kitchen. He was starving. 

Dinner was amazing. Frypan left Thomas a full, warm plate of food; knowing he'd be there late. Minho ate with him when he noticed him, but best of all, Newt had been waiting, also knowing he was gonna be late. Finally, Thomas got that hug and kiss he wanted so bad. Thomas didn't know where Chuck was, but Newt said he saw him off napping or something. The meal was delicious- he ate with his right hand and held Newt's hand under the table with the left. Minho prepped him for tomorrow. 

Newt and Thomas headed back to their secluded sleeping place after dinner. Thomas saw Chuck asleep along the way and smiled at the boy, despite his unconsciousness. He was just a kid; a precious, innocent kid. 

Newt and Thomas plopped in the cool grass. Thomas and Newt sat side-by-side, exchanging stories of their days. Obviously Newt had more to say, and Thomas kept the conversation with Alby to himself. Eventually, Thomas laid back, his tongue and eyelids felt heavy; he was all talked out and ready for bed. 

Newt patted Thomas' stomach, still sitting beside him, "You ready for tomorrow? It's not too late to back out, ya know." 

Thomas folded his arms behind his head, "If you think I'm backing out, you are absolutely insane," Thomas said with a laugh. 

Newt just gave a half smile at the remark and nodded a little. Thomas frowned and reached out, gripping Newt's thin leg firmly but gently, "Hey. I know you're worried about me, but I'm gonna be fine. I promise." 

Newt smiled a little more and nodded, "Yeah ya will. I'll beat your sorry butt if ya don't." 

Thomas laughed, recalling the slaps, "Yeah, no kidding..." 

Newt laughed at that one and laid back, his head falling on Thomas' shoulder. He reached his hand over and rested it on Thomas' hand that had previously been on Newt's leg, which was now on Thomas' stomach. Thomas smiled and stared up at the stars, "I love you, ya know." the words came out so naturally and he was just so sincere, his eyes threatened to fill for a split second.

"I love ya too, Tommy," Newt said, nuzzling his head closer into Thomas' shoulder and gave his hand a little squeeze. 

And with a big smile and racing heart, Thomas drifted to sleep. 

 

Minho awoke Thomas before dawn. Thomas stirred, his arms screaming in pain when he moved them- the one had remained folded behind his head and the other bent somewhat awkwardly to (still) be holding Newt's hand. He winced silently, not wanting to awake him. He carefully slid out from under Newt, catching his head and gently laying it on the grass. Thomas leaned over him and placed a soft, barely-there kiss on Newt's forehead before walking off with Minho. 

Thomas had no problem shaking away his grogginess; still in a good mood from the previous night and the excitement for today itching his entire body. 

Minho took Thomas to the Homestead first. There, Thomas was given some new, lighter garments for running; a watch; a pack; and brand new shoes- only Runners and Keepers got them. 

Next, the boys went to look at some weapons. It sent chills down Thomas' spine that the Glade had weapons, and in such a generous amount, but he understood why they were completely necessary. He chose a small knife and slid it into his pack. 

After that, they went down to the kitchen and got some breakfast- still early. But Thomas figured Newt would be waking up right about now. They ate and packed their lunches, then headed to the Map Room. 

Thomas learned a lot there. Every freaking route of the ever-changing Maze was kept safely stored here. Apparently there was a pattern to the changing; repeated itself after awhile. Thomas learned about how important it was to keep track of the routes and all that stuff. He had been so excited for the Map Room, but now was just eager to get out there. 

Then Minho said something that sent a shiver down his spine; "Alright. So. You'll be following me for today. Ready?" 

Thomas' heart spiked before picking up the pace. This was it, this was happening. He swallowed hard and thought about Newt and Chuck- they were so important; he'd have to find a way out for them. He had to keep up with Minho. He had to contribute. This was it. 

"Ready."


	22. Chapter Thirty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a quick single update before I give another (or maybe two more) double chapter updates!! 
> 
> Just a heads up, when Teresa shows up- I'm going to make Thomas care about her. NOT IN A ROMANTIC WAY. In a Chuck sort of way; like a close friend. Obviously there's going to be no romance or missing her or yearning for her. Though he will worry about her sometimes and whatnot- Just a heads up!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

Thomas and Minho walked quickly across the Glade towards the West Door. "Tommy." 

Thomas swung around, both he and Minho stopping to see Newt behind him. He stood there, rubbing his sleepy eyes. His hair was a mess and his eyes still heavy from sleep, but that scene seemed too perfect to be real. He was so beautiful. 

Thomas walked over and flattened Newt's hair as best he could, "Morning," he said, glancing back at Minho, "I gotta get going," he said softly. 

Newt nodded, not even attempting a smile. Thomas stole a kiss from those sad lips, "I'll see ya soon, okay? I love you." 

He managed to get a half smile from the grumpy little thing, "Love ya too, Tommy. But you better be safe out there, ya hear?" 

Thomas nodded and kissed his forehead before jogging after Minho and into the Maze; he could feel Newt's eyes on him all the way until he turned the first corner. 

 

Minho led Thomas through their section of the Maze, showing him how to sketch his way quickly as he ran. He taught him where was where. Minho made it seem so easy, but Thomas' entire body ached and screamed in misery. Yet, Thomas wouldn't back out of this. There was something about being in the Maze that awakened his every sense and kept a pleasant buzz going somewhere deep in his core. He had no doubt in his mind that he was meant to be here. 

That doesn't mean Thomas wasn't thanking God when it was lunch time. 

"So, you guys're pretty solid?" Minho asked after a big gulp of water. 

Thomas nodded a bit, eating his precious, precious food very slowly, "I would say so." 

"You love him?" Minho asked, staring. 

Thomas nodded slowly, "Uh, yeah. A lot- are you okay?" 

Minho smiled and nodded, "Yeah. Just different for something like... well freaking love like that to be in the Glade. It's so different but so great. It kinda lightens things up, ya know?" he said, following that with a big bite of his sandwich. 

Thomas smiled sheepishly as he sipped his water; they made other people feel good too. That was so amazing. 

After they finished eating, they were right up and at it again. Though Thomas noticed something different this time; as they were running he discovered something... interesting: 

WORLD IN CATASTROPHE: KILLZONE EXPERIMENT DEPARTMENT 

He showed Minho, thinking it was a big deal. Turned out they'd already found it before and they moved on. Though Thomas couldn't stop thinking about it. 

 

When they made it back to the Glade, they dragged their exhausted butts to the Map Room. They wrote up the Maze route, changed, got some dinner- he held Newt's hand the entire time while Chuck talked, but he was just too sleepy to actually respond. Though he was loving the way Newt was rubbing up on him and clinging to him; he must've really been worried. 

Twilight hadn't even faded yet when Thomas and Newt wandered to their place. Thomas collapsed almost instantly, so tired, laying on his stomach with a groan. Suddenly, he felt a pressure on his lower back as Newt sat on his back. His exhaustion faded and his face burned with embarrassment. Then his fatigue returned as Newt started rubbing his back and shoulders. 

Thomas moaned and shut his eyes, "You're an angel..." he murmured into the grass under him.

Newt laughed, "And you're so sore you can see it when ya walk. Sleep." he said, his voice softening and his god-like touch never faltering. 

With Newt's warmth on him and his absolute magic touch, he was easing to sleep fast. But that's when her voice spoke into him again; 

'Tom, I just triggered the Ending.'


	23. Chapter Thirty-Four/Thirty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, it's 20 minutes passed midnight here and I literally just got home, my Halloween was AWESOME. How was every one else's?? 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***
> 
> P.S.: Sorry for such a late update guys!!

Thomas awoke beside Newt. He felt like he had slept in, but the sky was a dull slab of gray; dawn. 

But when he sat up, he started hearing shouts towards the center of the Glade. Newt stirred and rubbed his heavy eyes and looked over at Thomas, "Tommy?..." he heard the shouts, pushing himself up, "What's goin' on?"

Thomas frowned, placing a hand on Newt's as he looked around again. This time he noticed that the sky wasn't quite like it should be at dawn; no splotches of color or light against the sky- just solid gray, "Something's wrong," Thomas said, scrambling to his feet, Newt doing the same beside him. 

Thomas glanced at his watch about the same time Newt did; then they met shocked gazes. It was an hour after mandatory wake-up. Newt's panicked eyes shot towards the Glade, the leader- or at least second in command- inside of him switching on like a machine, "Oh Tommy, something's wrong," he said, rushing towards the center of the Glade, Thomas following, trying to suppress the panic within him.

The boys found the Gladers standing the near the entrance of the Box, pointing and gawking fearfully at the sky. Everyone was speaking over one another, in utter panic. Thomas was panicked, yes, but not as much as he should be. Everyone was in a freak-out about the sun vanishing; but Thomas knew better than that, it wasn't gone, that was impossible. It was gone, but it hadn't vanished. Perhaps because it had been fabricated, the entire place was fabricated after all. 

Newt seemed a bit calmer than the others as well, he was smart, he knew. Chuck noticed them and rushed over, he looked so scared it made Thomas' heart ache. Chuck came in close to Thomas, just a scared kid. Thomas, even though nothing was particularly happening at the moment, felt the indescribable need to protect the ones he loved. He rested a hand on Chuck's shoulder while reaching out and grabbing Newt's hand, "You okay?" he asked to Chuck. 

"What do you think happened?" Chuck asked, a tremor in his voice. 

"Probably- it was fake. The 'sun', I mean. Maybe something broke and it'll be back on soon," Thomas said, though he knew that wasn't going to happen at all. 

Suddenly he remembered Teresa's words in his mind; that's how he knew. Because she triggered "The Ending". Minho came running up, calling out to him, not leaving him much time to think about this. "Come on shank, we gotta get going- already late." 

The look of shock on Chuck's face mirrored the way Thomas felt, "You're still going out there?" Chuck asked. 

"Course we are," Minho said, "the freaking sun's gone, that just gives us more reason to head out. Something might've changed in the Maze, something important. We gotta go." he said sternly. 

Thomas looked over to Newt. Two conflicting emotions were conflicting and battling it out in Newt's eyes, Thomas could see them so well. On one hand, Newt seemed relieved; probably because they were going to be looking for answers, possibly save them- and uphold a sense of somewhat normalcy, possibly calm people down. But on the other side, Newt looked so vulnerable and scared and worried. Thomas wanted to stay with Newt and knew Newt wanted him to stay with him, especially at a time like this. 

But Thomas knew he had to go. 

Thomas placed his hand on Newt's cheek, so softly. Newt's fluttered closed immediately at the touch and he leaned into it before hesitantly reaching his hand up and gripping Thomas' hand that was cradling his face, holding it in place. "Newt-" 

"I know," Newt said, not opening his eyes for another moment or so, "I know." he trained those eyes on Thomas', sending warm shivers through Thomas' very veins, "you just be careful," he squeezed Thomas' hand, "and get back to me safe. And soon." 

The pain in Newt's voice almost swept away Thomas' resolve and drive to leave as if it had been nothing more than dust. "I will," Thomas said, leaning in close and taking Newt in a deep yet soft, soft kiss, "I love you." 

"I love you, too," Newt said, nodding. 

Thomas turned to Chuck and ruffled his hair, "Be careful, I'll be back. Everything's gonna be fine." 

Chuck nodded slowly, as if taking in every word. Suddenly Thomas felt that statement was a promise. 

Then he and Minho ran out into the Maze; Thomas wondering the entire time if he should've told Newt about Teresa's words. But he didn't know how it tied with this or anything for that matter, and he was terrified to have Newt feel like he couldn't trust him in a time like this. So he held his tongue, conflicted, and disappeared within the Maze. 

 

They didn't make it far before they spotted a Griever. It had just been sitting there for awhile before leaving. Each time they rounded a corner, Minho reported seeing the tail end of a Griever. They were everywhere. 

The most interesting disappearance, though, had to be when they came to the Cliff. A Griever just hurdled itself off the edge and vanished. 

 

Minho and Thomas stared there for awhile, Minho explaining there had to be SOMETHING up with the Cliff. That he'd seen so many Grievers come this way and never come back. Then Minho spout out one of the most important things he had ever and ever would say; "Somehow, the Grievers are leaving the Maze through the Cliff." 

Then Thomas put that last piece into place, "And if they can leave," he started, looking over to Minho who met his glance, "then so can we." 

Thomas had been excited before Minho shot it down, "Ha, yeah, let's just invite the entire Glade to hang out with the Grievers- maybe grab some lunch?" 

Thomas felt his hopes drop and his cheeks burn. "Any better ideas?" 

Minho turned, starting to search the ground, "One step at a time, Greenie. Let's try tossing some rocks in, see what happens." 

The boys dug up, pulled out and discovered small rocks all along the ground and walls. They threw together a pretty impressive pile of them for the time they sent searching. Pleased with their collection, they plopped by the edge, legs dangling. The shot of terror and adrenaline was something powerful. Thomas made the first toss, tossing it off to the left. The stone fell and fell and fell, as physics demanded so. 

Minho threw the next, just a foot or two away from Thomas'- it also fell. Then Thomas tossed one. Then Minho. The boys alternated between tossing them short distances from the previous, all falling to the depths. They went in a line, side-to-side, rock after rock. 

And then Minho's rock disappeared. 

The rock has been tossed dead center of the Cliff. Thomas threw one in the same spot- it vanished. 

Then, in shock and rising excitement, the boys threw all their remaining words into the center of the Cliff. All of them vanished by seemingly magic. The threw rocks until they determined a perimeter. Just a few square feet. 

Minho dropped to his knees, furiously sketching and scribbling away on a piece of paper. Thomas studied the area, burning a mental picture of it and its exact location his mind. Chuck and Newt and Minho and Alby and all the Glader's lives could very well depend on it. 

They named it the Griever Hole; very creative. 

Then, they turned and reluctantly left their discovery, running into the Maze. 

***

Nothing else was different or extraordinary throughout the Maze. So they went back. 

There was a somber mood hanging over the Glade- no doubt the sky induced it. Minho headed straight for the Map Room, Thomas frowned, "Shouldn't we report back to Newt and Alby about this?" 

"Still Runners," Minho said, Thomas following. 

Things in the Map Room seemed completely normal, all the boys recreating their paths of the day. No one spoke about the sky, no one here seemed upset. The Runners were dedicated, that was for sure. 

Thomas was tired, he could feel it somewhere in the back of his mind and muscles, threatening to creep up on him. But excitement kept it at bay; not only did he get to go see Newt, he got to bring some damn big news with him. Just as they left the Map Room, they spotted Newt and Alby. Neither seemed very upbeat, but something lightened on Newt's face when they saw each other. 

Alby interrupted before Minho could explain, "Did you shanks find anything? We ain't got time for anything if there's nothin'." 

Minho crossed his arms, "Yeah, we did." 

Newt and Alby physically reacted, disappointed. "Just another shuck thing..." Alby muttered, shaking his head. 

Thomas frowned, worried. He looked at Newt, "What happened while I was gone?" he asked, surprised at how stern his voice was. 

"Supplies didn't show," Newt said, frowning. 

Thomas felt relieved, having thought something happened to someone or something. Though possibly this was worse. "Anyway," Minho said, "we found something weird." 

Minho told them every detail, Newt and Alby remaining silent to let him speak. Newt's eyes sparked to life and that beautiful, enchanting way Thomas had had the honor of witnessing so many times, "Gotta bloody see that for myself," his voice peaked with interest. 

Thomas was about to protest; he didn't want Newt out there. End of discussion. But some commotion from the Homestead shifted their attention. A group of Gladers stood out front, shouting to be heard over each other. Chuck was there, and when he noticed Thomas, he rushed over. "What's goin' on?" Newt asked upon the boy's arrival. 

"She's awake!" Chuck exclaimed, "The girl, she's up!" 

Thomas panicked slightly; he didn't want her in his freaking head again. He was actually considering the irrational possibility that maybe if he begged, he and Newt could go to their place, but it was too late. 'Tom, I don't know any of these people. Come get me! It's fading... I'm forgetting everything but you... I have to tell you things! But it's fading away...' 

Thomas reached over and gripped Newt with an iron grip. He felt Newt recoil slightly under the force, but it didn't exactly register as she said something else; 

'The Maze is a code, Tom. It's a code.'


	24. Chapter Thirty-Six/Thirty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 1:30 here but hey, why not update again? 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Thomas didn't want to see her. He didn't want to see anybody but Newt. 

But of course, he had to go. Alby said they needed to go speak with the girl. Thomas stood there until Newt disappeared. Once he had vanished inside the Homestead, there was no reason for Thomas to hang around anymore; nothing worth seeing. 

Thomas slipped off, unnoticed in all the commotion. He skirted the edge of the Glade to keep it that way until he came to a bench in the Deadheads near his and Newt's spot. 

"Out here, all on your own, it's kinda creepy." 

At first Thomas thought it was another message in his head, but when he glanced up, she was standing there. Thomas stood, staring at her, not sure if he should be escorting her back to the Homestead or avoiding her or what. 

"Do you really not remember me, Tom?" she asked after a moment, hurt in her eyes. 

"You remember... me?" Thomas asked her, confused. He wouldn't deny it, though, he felt something for her. A familiarity, a bond. Not like one with Newt, and not quite like Chuck's. But close to Chuck's. He couldn't explain it so he didn't try. 

Thomas tried to pry answers out of her, something, but she didn't have much. Granted, she had more than most Newbies had, but she was as helpless as all the others. Their conversation wandered into something less formal, "Do you know where Newt is? Scrawny, blond- kinda pale right now, he's stressed. He was supposed to come greet you." 

"I think I saw him on the way out," she said thoughtfully, "I got out of there pretty quick." She paused. "Hey, say his name again." 

Thomas looked confused, but obeyed, "Newt...?" 

She smiled and nodded, "You say it so softly, like it's something precious and fragile. What is he to you?" 

Thomas suddenly found himself blushing and not sure how to answer, so she continued; "Do you love him?" 

Thomas nodded a little, "You're pretty sharp," he said, hoping to change the subject. 

She laughed and shrugged a little. Thomas felt less intimidated by her, he suddenly felt like he had known her all his life. Who knew, maybe he did. "That reminds me, how do you do the mind thing?" he asked. 

'No idea. I just can. Can you not?' 

Thomas shook his head. Teresa shrugged, "You didn't tell anyone though, right? They'd think we're crazy." 

"Just Newt, but I'm not sure if he believed it." 

Teresa smirked and nudged Thomas with her shoulder, "Well of course I didn't count your boyfriend; you're supposed to tell him everything." 

Thomas rolled his eyes, fighting back yet another blush, "Just. Do you remember... anything yet?" 

Teresa shook her head. "No. Oh, but I found this written on my arm," she said, rolling up her sleeve. It was smudged and a little faded, but clear enough: 

WICKED is good

Thomas' eyes widened and a gear turned somewhere in his head, as if something was going to click, but never quite got there. She pulled down her sleeve and just stared at him, him doing the same, neither sure what to say. 

Then Newt ran up and Thomas' heart jumped. He smiled and turned to him. Newt took Thomas' hand as they met, every one of their reunions felt like some great collision of two worlds; so powerful and so damn sweet. 

"You found here," he said, surprised. 

"Well she found me," Thomas corrected. 

Alby walked up, looking annoyed- angry even. Suddenly, his course turned on Thomas and he practically shoved Newt out of the way, jabbing a finger against Thomas' chest so hard Thomas had to back up a step. But still, Thomas puffed out his chest, more angry about Alby shoving Newt aside than Alby's sudden attack. "I'm tired of this!" Alby snapped, "I want to know who you are and who she is and what in the shuck you two're doin' here!" he snapped again, his voice rising. 

Thomas almost wilted, "Alby, I swear-" 

"No!" he shouted this time, "you two have done something! What did you do!?" 

Neither Thomas or Teresa knew how to respond, "What did you do!?" Alby practically screamed. 

Newt pushed Alby back gently, more just leading him back than shoving him. He took Thomas' hand in his. Then Teresa spoke; "I triggered something. I don't know what it means, I SWEAR. But... The Ending, I triggered The Ending." 

Alby was seething, more than usual. Something happened. Thomas squeezed Newt's hand and looked down at him, searching the blond's face and suddenly seeing the exhaustion and hint of terror on his face, "Newt, what happened now?" 

Newt opened his mouth to respond, but Alby shot forward and grabbed Thomas by a fistful of his shirt, separating Newt and Thomas yet again. "What happened? I'll tell ya-- too busy to notice what time it is!?" 

Thomas looked confused, glancing about the dull sky as if that would tell him something. He quickly glanced down at his watch and his blood ran cold. 

"The Doors shank," Alby spat, releasing Thomas, "they ain't closin'." 

 

Thomas was speechless. This changed everything. Quickly, Thomas snapped out and took Newt's hand, as if that alone would protect his precious love. Alby pointed at the girl, "I want her locked up." Alby snapped. 

Thomas frowned, and suddenly grew defensive. He didn't want Alby locking up his best friend; best friend. That was it, that was who she was. Who she'd always been. Something flashed across his mind, a silent, blurred memory. More of just a feeling; the feeling of wasting time with your best friend and knowing the other will be there. They were best freaking friends and now Alby wanted to lock her away. 

Newt squeezed Thomas' hand, stealing his attention and heart. Thomas understood; just let Alby. Before Thomas knew it, she was being escorted to the Slammer. 

The next half hour was utter chaos. Newt and Alby came together and organized groups of who was doing what to prepare for the night ahead. Builders barricaded, every flashlight was brought into the Homestead, Frypan brought every nonperishable inside, weapons were carried inside, etc., etc. All hands on deck- the entire Glade was sleeping in the Homestead tonight. 

Newt and Thomas stepped off for a moment, Newt looking rundown. Thomas couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like to be Alby and Newt right now. "You okay?" 

Newt shrugged, then nodded, smiling up at Thomas, "Just don't go anywhere and we'll see." 

Thomas flashed a smile back. 

Once everything was done, Newt began shooing Gladers inside, Thomas standing beside him. After every one was in, Newt shut the door behind them. Newt and Thomas wandered into the room they'd be staying in for the night, Newt plopping on the bed, Thomas joining him. 

Just as they began settling in, Thomas heard it, the first eerie moan from a Griever. 

The night had begun.


	25. Chapter Thirty-Eight/Thirty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh guys, I've reached over a thousand hits on this story... THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, I LITERALLY ADORE AND LOVE YOU ALL. 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

It was so odd having everyone inside the Homestead, especially since most of the Gladers slept outside. Though the Keepers made it work, distributing boys throughout the rooms with pillows and blankets; and no one was too close. 

Thomas found himself in the room with Alby, Newt and Minho. Newt and Thomas on the only bed while Alby and Minho sat in chairs across from them. 

Newt just looked plain stressed, Alby stared at the ground looking utterly depressed, while Minho just sat with arms crossed looking annoyed. When Newt mentioned something about packing up the Glade and heading out to the Maze for a few days, or at least just the Keepers and Runners- or just the Runners, Alby reacted quick. And he was completely against it.

Alby refused to send people out there who didn't want to. So Minho, Thomas and Newt volunteered. Thomas wished Newt hadn't, though. 

Alby made a comment about Newt's 'bum leg' as he called it, and anger burned in Thomas' chest. Newt and Alby ended up getting into a heated discussion about Alby's freaking attitude; turns out, he's messed up. And he all he wants is for Newt and the others to start making the decisions. 

At the end of it, Newt agreed and Alby volunteered of being in charge of the Maps. It was kind of strange how eager Alby was to get out of there, but he wouldn't listen when Newt tried to persuade him to take a night off. 

 

Thomas found himself doing nothing more but staring at the ceiling on the bed, Newt curled up against him. Judging by his breathing, he wasn't sleeping either. How could they? Grievers could be roaming the Glade, just a couple feet away; the thought was terrifying. They ended up joining another room with a couple more Gladers, everyone quietly whispering and shuffling. Thomas did his best to sleep, but with no luck. The anticipation was too great, too devouring. 

And as the night went on, the wail of Grievers grew closer. 

Hours passed; and sleep came to Thomas, but in little intervals, making Thomas feel as drained as the dead each time he opened his eyes again. Newt was wide-awake now, simply sitting beside Thomas, huddled in the corner of their bed, leaning against the wall. Thomas slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, trying to keep the creaky bed silent. "Are you okay?" Thomas whispered with nothing more than breath, lacking any voice. 

Of course he knew the answer, but he felt the need to ask anyway. Newt nodded, the look on his face betraying him. Thomas could tell Newt didn't really want to talk much; whether it was for the sake of the lucky sleeping Gladers or because he just didn't feel like it though, Thomas had no idea. He simply sat right beside Newt and put his arm around him, pulling him in. 

Thomas awoke from another fit of sleep to find Newt had basically fallen over, his head on Thomas' lap, snoozing. Thomas didn't move the arm he had draped lazily over Newt. Sleep started taking him again when a loud mechanical screech and scattering clicks of a climbing Griever sounded. Everyone shot into a sitting position, but Newt was on his feet before anyone, waving his arms silently to get everyone's attention. He put his fingers to his lips and motioned for everyone to stay down, so Thomas did, fighting the need to be by Newt's side. 

Newt tiptoed to the window, favoring his bad leg carefully. He peeked through the spaces of board between the window. Thomas couldn't take it anymore, he crept over, crouching right beside Newt and craning his head under Newt's to peek through as well. All he saw was the open Glade. Newt and Thomas gave up, moving away from the window and back to the bed, sitting right up against the wall. 

Noises arose everywhere. Snapping and cracking, Grievers everywhere. One of the Grievers out of what seemed to be four just outside sounded like it was just outside the house. Then it started climbing the side of the house. Awful cracks filled the air as the boards were ripped apart during its ascent. Newt flinched every time and Thomas found himself holding Newt so hard that Newt occasionally had to shift to avoid being in pain. 

Then everything fell silent. 

It's red lights flickered against the window, every Glader gasping in terror and flinching and hiding under their blankets. 

Then the door whipped open from the hallway, Gladers squeaking and gasping so hard- Newt's entire body shuddered against Thomas'. Every one turned that way, including Thomas, and he just didn't react from the shock. 

It was Gally. 

 

Gally's insane eyes were alight. His clothes were torn and filthy. He let out a long, broken breath and fell to his knees. Suddenly, he started screaming, "They'll kill you!" he screamed, spittle flying off his lips, "they'll kill you all- one at a time! 'Till you're all gone!" 

Everyone was speechless as they watched crazed Gally stagger to his feet and walked forward, dragging his right leg with a heavy limp like an injured dog. Even Newt was just agape. Gally stopped standing just a few feet in front of Newt and Thomas. He pointed at Thomas with a bloody finger, "You," he hissed, bloody spittle following his words, "It's all your fault." he growled through grit teeth. 

Gally shot forward and swung his fist toward Thomas, connecting with his ear. With a cry, more from shock, Thomas fell to the ground. An awful ringing in his ear. Newt snapped out of his daze and jumped up, slamming both hands into Gally's solid chest. The incredible force of Newt's shove sent Gally stumbled backwards and falling into the desk by the window. 

Instead of retaliating like Thomas thought, but he straightened instead. "It can't be solved," he said, his voice suddenly missing its earlier vigor. "You can't beat the Maze. It'll kill all you shuck-faced shanks... The Grievers will kill you... I... It's better this way," he said, his eyes falling. 

Thomas listened in half awe and half confusion. Newt took a step forward towards the complete loon, making Thomas want to scramble up and grab him. "Gally, shut your hole. There's a Griever out that window, we ain't got time for your crazy. Come sit down and shut up." 

Gally narrowed his eyes at Newt. "You don't get it Newt... You're too stupid- you've always been too stupid. There's no way to win!" 

Suddenly, Gally began screaming and ripped a board off the window. "No!" Newt screamed, dashing forward. Thomas began scrambling to his feet to help. 

Gally had ripped off the second board just as Newt reached him. Gally swung it back with both hands and connected with Newt's head, making Thomas let out a pathetic cry. Newt went sprawling across the bed, his blood staining the sheets. Thomas slammed himself into Gally, both of them crashing against the wall- Gally the only one actually connecting with it. He groaned, dropping the board. Thomas heard a pop from Gally's shoulder as he hit it, but really couldn't care less. 

Gally pushed back, moving Thomas only an inch. Thomas felt more solid than he ever had, fueled by an intent to kill. Though, that inch was enough for Gally to rip the final board. The exact instant he ripped it off was the exact moment the window shattered. Thomas covered his face, the crystal wasps biting his face. He fell back and kicked his feet until he was against the frame of the bed where Newt lay. Possibly dead... 

Everyone else had already fled the room, a Griever pulsating it's disgusting, bulbous body through the window. Thomas was frozen until he saw the Griever's long metallic arm was reaching for Newt's lifeless body. That was all it took to break Thomas from his fear. Adrenaline brought courage and Thomas scanned the floor for a weapon, any weapon. There had to be one! 

But then Gally was speaking again and the Griever hesitated and slightly turned towards him to listen. "No one ever understood!" the boy SCREAMED at the top of his lungs, the sound so piercing Thomas thought Gally's throat must be shredding. "Don't go back to the real world, Thomas! You don't... want... to remember!" 

Gally paused and gave Thomas the most haunted, miserable and scared look Thomas had ever seen before he jumped onto the writhing body of the Griever. Thomas yelled and reached out, trying to stop Gally, but it was too late. The arm lost interest in Newt and retracted to clasp onto Gally. The boy's body sunk into the monster's body then the Griever was gone, scuttling away. 

Thomas was in utter shock. Panting and trembling, he scrambled to Newt and slowly positioned himself on top of him, resting a hand on Newt's pale cheek; a trail of blood from his head on it. "Newt..." Thomas whispered, voice shaking as he leaned in closer to kiss him, not sure if he was kissing him goodbye. 

Just as their lips were about to touch, Thomas felt Newt's breath against his lips and his eyes widened. He leaped off him and took Thomas' in his arms, holding his limp body. He heard odd sounds from the window, gripped Newt's body tight and hesitantly made his way to it. He watched as all the Grievers, including the one with Gally, started making their ways back to the Maze. 

Then he noticed something and he gasped, leaning out to get a better look. A lone shape was sprinting across the courtyard of the Glade towards the exit where Gally had been taken. 

Thomas gasped when he saw who it was and screamed and shouted for him to stop, but to no avail. 

Minho ran full speed into the Maze, disappearing from view.


	26. Chapter Forty/Chapter Forty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for only two updates guys :/ I've got a lot to do lately, it's weird, I used to have nothing to do all the time xD But right now is the best time to write; just had a shower, got some Cheetos and Dr. Pepper, my precious little baby (my dog) curled up beside me, blanket over my shoulders and candlelight! So relaxed. 
> 
> **I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

Thomas cursed to himself and looked down at Newt, he was still out, but his slumber was lighter now. He was going to be fine. Quickly, Thomas placed Newt on the bed and hollered to the Med-jacks on his way out. Surprisingly, they actually rushed in; it was a complete shock considering how the Homestead was. Gladers running all over the halls and stairwells, too scared to be in the rooms. Every one shouting and talking and panicking. Thomas ignored them, leaping three steps at a time until he was out in the Glade. 

It took him a good five minutes to get through the chaos, but now they he was in the open space, he was able to break into a do-or-die dead sprint. He was closing the distance between the vast Glade and the Door that dumbass ran out of. Suddenly, a voice called to him and his limbs froze. 

"Minho followed them out there!" Thomas said to Newt as he limped up, a towel pressed firmly against his head- a rose of blood against the white fabric. 

Newt nodded and looked out at the Maze, then back at Thomas, "That's one crazy shank Tommy, but we've got bigger problems." 

Thomas almost audibly whined, he wanted to go stop Minho. "Like what?" Thomas asked. 

"Someone-" 

Minho appeared through the Door and Thomas called out to him. Newt and Thomas met him as he stopped before them, "I just had... to make... sure," he panted, hands on his knees. 

Newt exchanged glances before Newt spoke up, "Of what you bloody idiot?" 

"Slim it, boys, I just wanted to see if those suckers went through the Griever Hole," he looked over at Thomas and nodded, "they did." 

For a brief moment, Thomas thought Newt was going to cry but he collected himself and sighed, shaking his head a little and letting the bloody towel drop, "I just can't believe this night..." he whispered. 

Thomas gripped Newt's shoulder and pulled him into his embrace. "Oh hey, what were you going to tell me?" 

Newt looked over Thomas' shoulder and nodded. Thomas turned to see the dark gray smoke twirling and twisting through the air. "Somebody burned the Map trunks..." 

Thomas knew he should've cared more about the Maps, but he had bigger problems, SUCH bigger problems; Newt was hurt, he had no idea where Chuck was, he hadn't heard from Teresa, God knows where Alby was and the freaking Glade was falling apart. Thomas bit at his lip, "Do you know where Chuck is?" he asked Newt. 

Newt nodded, "Saw him on my way out after you- told 'im to stay in the Homestead." 

Thomas nodded, "Good, good. Now-" 

"Teresa?" Newt asked. 

Thomas nodded, "Then Alby." 

"Then what?" Newt asked as they started that way, Thomas walking slower so Newt could hold him hand; he was lagging with the head wound and his limp seemed abnormally bad, he'd been running and just rushing around too much today. 

"That is something we will worry about when it bothers us," he said, giving Newt a smile. 

Newt smiled back. 

When they made it to the Slammer, they laid on their stomachs in front of the barred window. The day wasn't yet over so she couldn't come out just yet. "Teresa?" Thomas called. 

There was a shuffle before she appeared, blue eyes glazed with grogginess. Thomas recoiled slightly at the sight, "Were you sleeping?" 

Teresa nodded, "Yeah. Why? What's up?" 

Newt and Thomas exchanged shocked glances that she could actually be sleeping at a time like this. Thomas shook it off and explained the whole disaster. Explaining the story was exhausting, but he managed. Teresa frowned and turned to Newt, reaching her hand through and placing it on Newt's forehead so lightly, "Are you okay now?" she asked gently. 

Newt nodded and looked at Thomas, smiling sheepishly, "I'm fine, because of him." 

Thomas had to look away, his cheeks burned. Teresa smiled for a moment before having the good grace to change the subject. "So I was thinking about when I said the Maze is a code," she started. 

Newt looked at Thomas questioningly and Thomas had to pretend like he didn't notice or feel Newt's burning into him. "So what do you think it means?" Thomas asked. 

"Well when I told you, I was losing my memories and trying to save the most vital ones. Maybe, since the Mazes change daily and make some sort of pattern, there is a code there. And it must be important."

Thomas was falling into thought, Newt just watching the two's conversations, "The Runners compare each Map day-to-day... But maybe that's not right... Maybe they're supposed to compare all the sections, and on a much bigger scale." 

"I also figured something else out," she said, "I think it's supposed to be a... a word- like the Maze is spelling something." she said thoughtfully. 

"S-Spellin' something? What are you two even bloody talkin' about?" Newt asked, confused, but Thomas barely heard him as everything came crashing together in his head. 

"You're right- you're right! They've been analyzing it the wrong way, all this time!" Thomas exclaimed, glancing wide-eyed between the two. 

"What? What are you talkin' about?" Newt asked. 

Thomas turned and grabbed his face, not able to contain himself, "They should be comparing all the sections together! If it's spelling something, it won't be found in individual sections!" 

"The movements," Teresa said, onto it too now, "they're spelling words somehow." 

"Maybe a letter a day," Newt said thoughtfully, his face still in Thomas' hand, "and then once it's spelled, it repeats itself maybe?" 

Thomas smiled widely, he got it. They all got it. "We gotta-" Thomas' high came crashing down. He released Newt's face and shook his head, "Oh no no no no..." 

"What?" Teresa asked, glancing between the boys worriedly, gripping the bars tight. 

Thomas looked towards the Map Room, the smoke twisting from it, rather. "What's wrong?" Teresa insisted. 

"The Maps are burned... If there was a code, ... we've lost it." 

 

Thomas suddenly turned on Newt and grabbed his shoulders, "Any of the Maps- Any? Did they survive?" 

Newt grabbed Thomas' hands, "Follow me." 

Teresa frowned, "Wait, let me out!" she said, "I want to help!" 

Newt frowned apologetically as he and Thomas got to their feet, "I don't have my keys on me," he said, "we'll be back." 

The boys started off. "Where are we going?" he asked. 

Newt kept going, "Just follow and shh," he said, taking Thomas' hand. When their hands met, Thomas needed no more answers. He knew everything was going to be fine. 

They met up at the Map Room. Thomas was so confused; Minho was standing there, beside an unconscious Alby. Newt frowned, "What in the bloody-" 

Minho cut him off, "Found him here. Thinking Gally came in here and knocked him out so he could burn the Maps." 

Newt nodded, "I wouldn't be surprised." 

Thomas spoke up, "We have a plan. We need to see if any Maps made it, we might've figured them out." 

Minho's eyes lit up and he nodded at Newt. Newt reached over Alby and took his keys, "Come on, let's go get that girl first," Newt said, spinning the key ring proudly on his finger. 

***

Newt unlocked the door, opening it up. She seemed surprised to see them. Newt grinned, "Told ya we'd be back," he said, pocketing the keys. 

With Teresa now present, Newt and Thomas and her practically took turns explaining the whole code deal to Minho, we just listened thoughtfully. Newt looked to Minho and rose his eyebrows afterwards- yet again, another weird exchange between them. Minho nodded at Newt, then Thomas, "The Maps are okay." 

Thomas' heart sky-rocketed, "... What?" he asked, a smile finding his face. 

"We replaced the actual Maps with dummies and hid the real ones in the weapon room; because of what Alby said," Minho explained. 

"They're all safe and sound," Newt said with a smile. 

Thomas took Newt's hand and squeezing it, finding himself falling in love with that spark in his eyes- and just Newt in general- for about the millionth time, "Take me to them," Thomas said, managing to speak over his emotion. 

"Let's go," Newt said with a nod.


	27. Chapter Forty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brain is fried from homework and I'm so ready for bed, but one more update just cause I love you guys! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Thomas' eyes lit up when he saw them; the safe Maps. All the secrets he needed to get them out of here- to get Chuck home and Newt sleeping in a safe bed beside him- was all right here. 

Thomas explained to Minho how they should try comparing the Maps; all sections instead of just one section to one section. Thomas wanted to give Minho something solid, but he couldn't. All he knew for sure was that they needed to try something different; something bigger. And he could feel the answer somewhere in his mind, but it was just a breath out of reach. 

Thomas gave up momentarily, on trying to explain. Thomas was seated at a table, knees up on the chair with the Maps in his lap. Newt stood behind him, arms wrapped around Thomas' shoulders. Teresa stood beside him while Minho was on the other side. Thomas huffed and looked down at the Maps. He could just barely see the lines from the second page on the first. Then it made sense. 

"Wax paper," Thomas blurted. 

Minho started to question it, but Thomas shot him down, "Minho, just trust me. I need wax paper." 

 

They managed to convince Frypan to hand over his precious wax paper. When they did, they hunted down pencils and markers and headed right back to the weapon room where the Maps were, safe. 

Thomas dropped the recovered items on the table and plopped back in his seat. Newt leaned forward on his elbows beside Thomas, "What's goin' on in that head of yours, Tommy?" 

Thomas just nodded in response. He handed the knife over to Minho and pointed to the wax paper, "Start cutting rectangles about the size of the Maps. Newt and Teresa, you help me grab the first couple ten pages out of all the crates." 

"Yes sir, boss." Teresa said sarcastically. 

Thomas' cheeks burned and felt awkward about the authority in his voice he'd been carrying a moment ago. Newt flashed a smirk and winked, "I think authority looks good on ya, Tommy," he whispered, running his hand down Thomas' arm as he walked to one of the crates, leaving Thomas melting. 

Thomas had to sit down for a second before he could go retrieve his own papers. 

He made a note to himself to be authoritative much, much more often. 

When they got the pages they needed, Minho had already cut twenty sheets of wax paper at the perfect size. Thomas sat back down and grabbed a few, then grabbed a marker. "All right, everybody trace the last ten days onto the wax paper. When we're done, I think I might be able to show you something." 

Thomas sat at one edge of the table, Newt on the side to his right, Teresa across, and Minho sitting criss-cross on the side to Thomas' left, focusing intently on cutting out his squares. Minho started to ask what Thomas was talking about, but Newt shot him down. 

"I think I know what he's talkin' about here, just keep bloody cuttin'." 

Thomas nudged Newt's foot under the table, "Authority looks good on you, too," he said with a little smirk. 

Newt just looked down to his work, his cheeks so red Thomas had no problem seeing them from where he was. 

They got to work. They were all focused and silent as they traced, cut and moved on to the next. The sounds of them working fell into an almost-rhythm and Thomas focused on it to keep himself distracted from the boredom that was somehow managing to creep up on him. 

Box by box, section by section, they continued on. 

Newt broke first, "I'm done with this, my head hurts and my fingers are bloody burnin' like a mother. Can we just see if it's workin'?" 

Thomas put his marker down and attempted closing his fingers, pain making them stiff. He briefly cracked all his fingers, finding momentarily relief in that, "Okay, give me the last few days of each section- make piles along the table in order from Section One to Section Eight." 

They did as asked. Thomas watched, jittery and nervous. This had to work, it had to. If it didn't, then what? It. Had. To work. 

Almost magically, the picture came together. Teresa let out a small gasp while Newt just side-stepped over to Thomas and held onto the hem of Thomas' shirt, eyes wide. 

Sitting in the exact center of the page was the letter F.


	28. Chapter Forty-Three/Forty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY I COULDN'T UPDATE, GUYS. Yesterday was a mess! But it's three in the morning here and I got up to post a couple updates before I need to actually get up at five! Forgive me, guys!!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters***

All sorts of emotions swelled, but above them all was excitement. It worked, it really worked. They could solve it. They could really solve the bloody Maze, as Newt would say. But with such high hopes and excitement came that nagging fear in the back of his mind; what could go wrong? What could be waiting out there for them? 

"Woah man," Minho mumbled, staring at the letter with hands on his hips. 

Newt glanced over at Thomas, then back at the letter, "Sometimes you're brilliant, Tommy." 

Teresa voice what was in the back of everyone's mind, "It could be a coincidence. Do more, quick." 

Thomas did, hands scrambled around the table, layering paper over paper. And each time, obvious letters formed. After the F, they got an L. Then an O, then an A, then a T. Then C... A... T... 

"Look," Thomas said, pointing, "FLOAT and CAT." 

"Float cat?" Newt asked, "don't sound like no freakin' rescue code to me." 

Thomas nodded, "We just need to keep working." 

Another couple papers later they realized the second word was CATCH, which didn't make sense, but made more sense than CAT. By now, there was no doubt it was definitely not a coincidence. Minho looked over the papers, "We can't help anymore." 

All three looked over him as if he had just gotten hit by a bus. Minho returned their stares and calmly continued, "At least not Thomas and me. We need to get the other Runners and get our butts out in the Maze." 

"What? This is so much more important," Thomas urged. 

"We can't miss a day out there, shank. Especially not today." Minho answered. 

Thomas sighed, disappointed. Running the Maze seemed like such a waste of time considering they were forming the code to crack it right here. "But Minho, the code..." he murmured. 

Minho shot him a glare, "Well Tommy, seems to me we should be bringing back those damned letters. Especially now. Something could've changed. Some clue could be left. Now hike up your skirt and let's go!" Minho barked.

Thomas, conflicted, looked at the papers on the desk, trying to form some protest but was having a hard time. The two completely logical points battled it out in his head and he had never so felt so unstable. 

Then Newt's hand rested on his and the world cleared up an instant. "Tommy," Newt said softly, "He's right. You need to go Runnin', I'll round up some more Gladers and we'll get workin' on this." Newt had never sounded so much like a leader and if that wasn't a foundation, Thomas didn't know what was. 

"Me too," Teresa added, "I'll stay and help Newt." 

Thomas nodded, he wanted to stay and continue gripping the hand of his absolute, but knew they were right. He needed to go. Thomas craned his head down and gave Newt a kiss, caught momentarily by the galaxies staring back at him and smiled, "I'll be back." 

"I know ya will," Newt said, stealing another kiss and Thomas' breath. 

"Good that," Minho said, starting to the door. 

Thomas hesitated, gripping Newt's hand on the table. Newt rubbed his thumb across the back of Thomas' hand softly, "An' we'll be right here," he whispered comfortingly. 

Thomas half smiled, "I know you will." he said, reluctantly pulling away and following Minho. He didn't look back, he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to go. 

 

Deciding it was time to stay the night in the Maze or at least be out there way later than usual, Minho and Thomas rounded up the Runners and told them. Thomas was surprised how readily they all agreed to the more in-depth searching. They all packed their packs with more supplies than usual. 

They were stretching their legs when Chuck wandered over to say goodbye. "I'd go with you," he started, "but I don't want to die horribly." 

Thomas laughed, "Thanks for the words of encouragement." 

"Be careful," Chuck said, his voice suddenly thick with concern, "I wish I could help you." he sounded so genuine and sad, Thomas thought his heart might break. 

Thomas smiled a little, ignoring Minho bothering them to leave, "Keep an eye on Newt for me, then. You know how he gets." 

Chuck nodded, "Be careful, please." 

Thomas nodded. Chuck turned and started walking away and Thomas thought his heart might seriously break yet again, watching the boy sadly wander off. "Chuck," he called, suddenly desperate to say something, "don't you forget about my promise- I'm getting you home!" 

Chuck turned, his eyes filling and gave a thumbs-up. Thomas returned it with a double-thumbs up as he started backing into the maze, then turned and ran into it. Time to get them home. 

 

They ran, making incredibly good timing. Thomas was grateful for the watch, the skies apparently weren't going back to normal anytime soon. They were utterly silent as he ran, Minho and experience had taught Thomas that speaking did nothing more than waste energy. So he focused on his pace. If pace meant Newt, then yes, he focused very hard on his pace. 

In the third hour, Teresa spoke to him. 'We're making progress- found a couple more words already. But none of it makes any sense yet.' 

Thomas' first instinct was to deny what she was doing and ignore her, but he fought it and tried speaking to her. 'Can you hear me?' no response. He closed his eyes briefly to focus, concentrating, he repeated; 'Can you hear me?' 

'Yes!' she replied, 'really clearly the second time.' 

Thomas was shocked, he almost stopped running. He did it! Now he just wished Newt had this ability, too. 

'This code has to mean something,' she added, 'it has to. And the thing I wrote on my arm, WICKED is good.' 

'Who knows? Maybe it won't matter soon,' Thomas replied, getting a headache. 

There was silent for a moment and Thomas used the time to try and settle his aching head. 'You there?' 

'Yeah,' she replied, 'but this always gives me a headache.' 

Thomas almost laughed at the timing, 'My head hurts, too.' 

'Okay,' she said, 'See ya later.' 

'Wait!' 

'What?' she asked, her presence seeming to fade as if she was trying to cut out. 

'How's Newt?' he asked, surprised the way his heart twisted. 

Her reply sounded almost amused, 'Missing you and working hard. Now focus, Tom. I will too. He'll be fine, you'll be fine. Now be careful and find something worth finding.' 

He could subtly feel her not there anymore. 'Teresa?' he called out, wanting to hear about Newt more. It was a bad idea, but he almost wanted Teresa to tell Newt about what they could do. Irrationally hoping Newt would be able to unlock the ability or talk to him through Teresa. His rational mind knew something like that would never work, but Thomas couldn't help spending some time thinking about it. 

Two breaks later and a about half an hour of running, Minho and Thomas slowed to a walk as they reached another- and the final- dead end of Section Eight. "That's it," Minho said, "and surprise, surprise, there's no exits." 

For the next few hours, they literally just explored. Running their hands along the ivy, searching the ground. The only somewhat-interesting thing they found was another one of those signs; WORLD IN CATASTROPHE- KILLZONE EXPERIMENT DEPARTMENT. 

They had another meal, searched some more. And yet again, they found nothing. 

Minho spotted a Griever disappearing around a corner ahead; it never came back. Thirty minutes later, they saw another. After another hour, one went rushing right past them and didn't even pause. 

"I think they're messing with us," Minho grumbled, "The Creators. Like they want us to know there's no freaking way out." 

Thomas and Minho were hesitant to say it, but Minho did, "How much you wanna bet another Glader got taken last night?" 

Thomas knew it was true, and an icy terror pulsated through his body. He assured himself the Map Room was safe, but still, the image of a Griever breaking in and grabbing Newt with one of it's mechanical arms and stealing him away penetrated his mind. 

"Let's just go home," Minho muttered, shaking his head in defeat. 

He and Minho headed back to the Glade, silently, and they didn't see another Griever the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll have to excuse any errors, it's early x3 Though now I've got to start getting ready, so I'll update again after school ASAP!!


	29. Chapter Forty-Five/Forty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY GUYS, HERE'S THE UPDATE SCHEDULE I'MMA TRY TO KEEP; So my mom leaves at 3 in the morning everyday for work. So I figure I'll get up, update, condition (for National Guard), then get ready for school and THEEEN, when I get home, at around five or six- gotta do my chores first- and update, then do homework, then force myself to update again. Gonna try to get three updates in a day :') 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***
> 
> AND HEAD'S UP: There is some implied sexual content in this one- no smut, just implied. You've been warned xD

According to his watch, since the sky wouldn't tell him a thing, it was mid-morning when he and Minho arrived back to the Glade. Surprisingly, things appeared to be back to normal today. Gladers were tending to their jobs, everything was bustling, and Newt was supervising. The abrupt normalcy gave Thomas an odd pang of homesickness. 

Newt was there in a moment, running into Thomas' arms. Thomas smiled and held him close, "I missed you," he whispered against Newt's forehead. 

Thomas could feel Newt's smile against his chest and let out a relieved breath; this. This made things okay. Newt pulled away and took a step back, bouncing on his heels and smiling expectantly at them, "So? Tell me ya brought some good news!" 

Thomas almost physically cringed, his heart busting knowing he had to bring Newt's hopes crashing down. Thomas shook his head, but Minho was speaking before he could, "No Newt, we didn't find crap. The shuck walls aren't even moving and there's no shuck way out of this shucking place," Minho said, sounding frustrated but so broken down at the same time. 

Newt looked at Thomas, his face falling, "What?" 

"He's just discouraged," Thomas said, "but he's right. We didn't find anything. The walls didn't even move again." 

Darkness overcame Newt and his shoulders slumped. "Oh. They took Adam." 

Thomas didn't know the name, he felt guilty for not knowing. And for whatever reason, he missed the kid. But he noticed that once again, they only took one. Newt was about to say something when Minho had an outburst, startling Thomas and Newt so bad they flinched and instinctively moved towards one another. 

"I'm so sick of this!" Minho shouted, throwing his hands up, "I'm just freaking sick of it! It's over! It's all freaking over!" he yanked his backpack off and threw on the ground, kicking it, "There's no way out- there's no way out, we're just shucking screwed!" Without another word, Minho stomped off to the Homestead, fuming. 

Thomas cringed, if Minho gave up, they were in some trouble. 

Thomas looked at Newt. Newt wasn't saying a word, just staring after Minho absently with such a look of despair Thomas felt the urge to just rip a way out of the damn ground. Thomas took a step forward and firmly put one hand on the back of Newt's head, pulling the blond against his chest. Thomas closed his eyes and rested his head on Newt's, "Please don't give up, too. I can't go on without you keeping me going." 

Newt nodded under Thomas' head, making Thomas' head bob. "I won't," he said after a pause, "Just feelin' a bit down today." 

Thomas nodded and held him in place as he continued speaking, "Did you figure anything out?" 

Newt seemed to lighten a bit and pulled away from Thomas, "We think we've got it all figured it out," Newt said, a geniune half smile finding his face, making Thomas' already-tired body nearly collapse in relief. 

Newt didn't let Thomas ask anymore questions, just grabbed his hand and dragged him to the Map Room. 

 

When they made it to the Map Room, several Gladers Thomas didn't know where there, crowded around the table. Newt dismissed the helpers as they walked towards Teresa, who was holding a single piece of paper and scanning it as if the secrets to all their problems were on it; and maybe they were. 

"Come check this out," she said. 

"I'll drop to my bloody knees and kiss your feet if you can figure it out," Newt said, making Thomas blush for some reason. 

"No doubt this is right," she assured, "just have no clue what it means." 

Thomas accepted the paper and scanned over it. There were numbered circles running down the paper; a word following each: FLOAT, CATCH, BLEED, DEATH, STIFF, PUSH 

Just six words. 

Thomas frowned, having hoped that the code would make sense once it was all out on the paper. He looked at Newt, disappointed, "This is all there was?" 

Teresa took the paper, "The Maze has been repeating these words for months. Week between." she quickly read off the words in order. Without realizing, Thomas memorized the words and the order they were sent in. 

Thomas thought about bringing Minho in or something, but he knew what he had to do to get that last little piece to make sense. It was an awful idea, though. Newt reached out and grabbed Thomas' hand, "Ya okay? Your face just went white as a ghost." 

"I'm just tired, I could really use some rest," Thomas said, giving the Teresa and Newt a nod, hoping to calm them. 

"You spent all bloody night in the Maze-" Newt started, the concern not washing from his gaze, "go take a nap." 

"Come with me," Thomas said. His plan was dangerous, life-threatening and there was only a 50/50 chance he'd come out alive, he figured he should keep Newt with him as long as possible. 

Newt smiled and nodded and they said goodbye to Teresa, heading up the stairs. 

Thomas was going to get stung by a Griever, go through the Changing and save everybody.

Newt and Thomas wandered into the room Teresa had once had all the way at the end of the Homestead, trying to get some privacy. Newt locked the door and looked over at Thomas, "Finally, some freakin' alone time." 

Thomas laid back on the bed, Newt voicing his thoughts exactly. Newt walked over, kicked off his shoes, and crawled on the inside of the bed. Thomas smiled over at him and turned so he was facing him, suddenly not wanting to sleep anymore. Newt grinned up at him, "Aren't ya supposed to be nappin'?" 

Thomas grabbed Newt's hips and pulled him in close, "Aw, but you're here," he said, looking into his eyes for a moment before pressing his lips against Newt's. 

Newt giggled into it, probably from Thomas' cheesy remark before it started to heat up. Nervousness and eagerness took the form of a chill up his spine; their kisses had never been like this. This one seemed almost desperate, gripping each other tight, only breathing when they gasped for air and even then they didn't stop. Thomas eventually found himself over Newt, straddling Newt's hips and cupping Newt's face in his hands firmly. 

They pulled away at the same time for once, meeting eyes as they breathed in each other's air. Newt's eyes were half-lidded and his cheeks rosy and Thomas just couldn't keep himself off him. When they went at it again, Thomas' hands were in a different place, holding Newt's hips. Pinning them. Newt's were too, gripping the hem of Thomas' shirt. He seemed to want to pull it off, but hesitated each time. It dawned on Thomas right then where this might very well be headed. 

Thomas pulled away, shocked at how out of breath he was, "Are you okay?" he huffed. 

Newt was just as breathless, if not more. He bit his lip and nodded, seeming to do so more for himself than Thomas. Thomas searched Newt's eyes for a moment; they were brilliant and captivating- made his heart race every damn time. They were full of something sharp, an edge. And clouded with something else, something much more reckless- something Thomas could recognize, knowing he had the same look. The same lust hazing his eyes. 

Thomas put a hand on Newt's cheek, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

Newt looked down, flustered by the comment, "It's not that I don't want to...-" 

Thomas knew what he meant, he was feeling it too. Thomas titled Newt's head up by his chin, "Hey. I love you. I love you everyday- I can't tell you with something as minor as words how everyday I see you, hear your voice, get stuck in the trap that is your eyes, or feel your touch- how I end up falling in love with you again. And again and again and again. I get the same rush and fear and joy and I don't know what it is about you that's drawn me in so far, but I know I can't live without you now. A week ago, probably. But just two days later-- God Newt, you pulled me in faster than I thought possible. I don't know what it is that's making you unsure or nervous, but I just want you to know that I'm always going to love you. I'm always going to fall in love with you everyday. I wish I could explain how I feel better than this, but every time I try I either come out speechless or can only mutter 'I love you' on the remnants of the breath you stole." 

It felt nice finally spilling his emotions like that, it wasn't often they had enough alone time or just time in general for Thomas to say something like that. He'd been wanting to tell Newt that for a long time. Newt stared, his eyes not so wide, just soft and startled. "Tommy," he whispered, "I love ya too. I ain't no poet, but if that's how I had to word it, that'd be it." he said gently. 

Thomas smiled and leaned in to give him a small kiss, which Newt quickly caught and kept it going. It didn't take them long to continue where they left off, though this time Newt actually tugged Thomas' shirt over his head. There was a pause and a break in the kiss as he did so, then another pause as Newt stared at him for a moment, then they were at it again. 

Newt's shirt was next and Thomas thought he might cry or collapse; he was so damn gorgeous. 

Needless to say, other garments followed and the kiss progressed into something much, much more. 

And also needless to say, when it was over- when all the moans and gasps had ended and the room was silent, Newt was on Thomas' chest- his hair a mess and already snoozing away. Thomas laid on his back as he usually did. He figured he should wake Newt up, collect their clothes and at least unlock the door in case something happened, but he didn't. He just laid there, holding the back of Newt's head with one hand and running his thumb over the nest that was Newt's hair; the other hand wrapped around Newt's shoulders. Thomas ignored the intense heat and held Newt against him until sleep started taking him as well. 

Thomas had made some stupid decisions in his time in the Glade and would make many more, especially the one he had in mind, but he knew for a fact that Newt was not one of those mistakes. 

 

Thomas awoke a couple hours later. He attempted to sit up, forgetting about Newt for a moment and waking him up in the process. "Sorry," Thomas said, rubbing his eyes. 

Newt shook his head a little and looked at Thomas with only one tired eye open, "What time is it?" 

"Dinner time," Thomas said, looking at his watch. That sounded amazing right now. 

Newt nodded eagerly, seeming to have the same idea. They pulled on the clothes they had carelessly thrown aside and stepped out. Thomas had never felt the urge to be so close to Newt THIS bad before. They'd been inseparable before, now it was taken to an even more extreme. Newt seemed affected as well, pressing himself against Thomas as they walked with their hands tightly intertwined. They only got about half way down the hall when some Gladers whispered something. Thomas gave them a confused look and one of the motioned to his hair. 

Thomas didn't quite understand until he looked over at Newt's messy hair. He blushed a little and stopped, turning Newt around, "Come on." 

Newt frowned, "Where are we going?" 

"We're brushing your hair." 

 

Once Newt was brushed, they got dinner. Then it was time for another long night. 

The Builders had fixed the windows Gally screwed up. Alby was up and about again and demanded everyone rotate where they slept. Thomas was in the large living room with the same people from before, only this time Teresa was actually allowed inside. She was curled up, actually sleeping. Which Thomas was glad for since she seemed to notice what had happened pretty quick and wouldn't stop bringing it up and teasing. 

Thomas and Newt laid curled up together. The boys tried to sleep, but to no avail. Then came the terrible sounds of the Grievers. 

Everyone crowded against the wall farthest from the door. Thomas ended up herding Newt into the corner and sitting right beside, pressed to him. Teresa was on his other side, pressing herself as far back as she could go against the wall. Everyone was quiet and tense and Newt was trembling, or maybe it was Thomas; he wasn't entirely sure. 

"It's got Dave!" Someone screamed from upstairs. 

A couple of Gladers gasped and flinched and whimpered, but other than that, no one moved or said a thing. Thomas could feel the relief and the guilt from feeling it throughout the room. Thomas' entire body stuttered when there was a loud crack of wood and crash of something falling. The Griever was leaving with its nightly victim. 

Every sense in Thomas rushed alive. It was now or never. 

He almost chickened out of it, but in a split second, he saw a lot of things; he saw Chuck's teary eyes, the despair hidden in Minho's eyes, the fear in Teresa's from just a moment ago- and most of all, he saw Newt. He saw a lot of Newt; he saw him throwing his head back laughing like he does, he saw him on the brink of tears when something went wrong, he saw him drained of all hope, he saw his familiar smile, he saw his rosy cheeks and his messy hair and his slim frame and the sleepy smile he gave Thomas just hours earlier before collapsing into sleep on Thomas' chest. Every little warm and painful image flashed across Thomas' mind in no time at all, and he knew exactly what he had to do. 

Thomas grabbed Newt's face and gave him a sloppy kiss before bolting out. Newt yelled something, shrill and terrified, but Thomas kept running. Teresa yelled in his mind, but he kept running. He almost lost his resolve when he felt the ghost of Newt's lips brushing against his, the ghost of Newt's skin under Thomas' fingertips. 

When Thomas reached the Griever, he jumped on the arm holding Dave. He tried to jerk the kid free, hoping the creature would retaliate. Three Grievers swarmed on him at once and he panicked; he wanted to get stung, not killed! Their attack escalated and Thomas felt it; pinpricks of fiery agony erupt over his body. Thomas scrambled away, just enough for the Grievers to give up and take their victim. 

Newt was on him in a second, followed immediately by Chuck and Teresa and Minho soon after. All the people he was doing this for; right there. Newt grabbed him under his arms, "Get his legs!" he yelled, his voice so fierce and demanding. But it was fading from Thomas as Thomas found himself slipping away. 

Somebody followed Newt's order and they started rushing him inside. "What were you doing!?" Newt yelled furiously, though his voice cracked with softer emotions. 

They got him on the bed. Newt looked panicked as Med-jacks did their thing, but Newt was right there, squeezing Thomas' hand so tight he figured THAT would knock him out. He glanced up and, even with his fading consciousness, his heart broke. Because Newt was looking down at him- he looked so afraid, so miserable. Tears rolled down his cheeks and sniffled, gripping Thomas' hand with both of his. He suddenly turned like a striking snake, looking over his shoulder, "Grief Serum, now!" 

Thomas heard Chuck whining at Thomas' feet worriedly. Teresa tried to get answers, but Thomas didn't have the strength to answer. He just watched Newt as the Keeper's face fell back into misery and he stared at Thomas. A needle found Thomas' arm and relief spread so fast. Warmth took him and the pain just vanished. With it came a tiredness so warm and comfortable, he was melting into it. "Newt...." he murmured, words slurred, "I love you...."


	30. Chapter Forty-Seven/Forty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What an awesome way to wake up-- had MANY comments and, I kid you not, every single one was either asking me or predicting that Newt was gonna slap Thomas; you guys are AMAZING, I just love you all so much XDDD 
> 
> Ran two miles in twenty minutes today; I just need to shave 10 seconds off that time and keep it up- you're required to run two miles in 19 minutes and 53 seconds. God, I hate running. 
> 
> Anyways, let's get back to the important stuff!!!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Thomas had no concept of time as he went through the Changing. 

It was an odd experience; starting off cold and dark. He felt empty, floating in a void, feeling no attachment to his own body much less the world. Saw nothing, smelled nothing and heard nothing. Time stretched on seemingly endlessly. Fear turned into curiosity, which soon melted into boredom. Then finally, things began to change.

He could hear wind somewhere in the distance. It grew, far in the distance he could see it, a tornado. A swirling funnel of ferocious air, and then it moved. It whipped behind him, making him feel like his clothes and hair would shred right off him. Then the tower of wind began moving towards him, and it consumed him. Memories flooded into thoughts. 

And then everything turned into pain. 

 

Thomas could hear a voice, someone saying his name. 

He didn't want to answer; he was shut down- his mind had done so when the pain became unbearable. He was afraid if he allowed himself consciousness, he'd be allowing himself pain. 

"He's not gonna answer ya, Chuckie." 

The voice spread warmth through him, as if his body was physically reacting with happiness to it. 

"Lighten up, Newt. Thomas, it's Chuck. Are you okay?" 

Then it all came crashing back to him- The Glade, the Grievers, being stung, the Changing- memories- The Maze couldn't be solved, not at all. The way out was something completely unexpected, something they never would've dreamt up in a million years. And it was terrifying. 

Groaning, Thomas forced his eyes open. Gradually, his eyes adjusted and he was greeted with Chuck's ecstatic, chubby face smiling widely and Newt behind him, his angular, sharp features in surprise- and beautiful, so freaking beautiful. "He's awake!" Chuck yelled, reaching back and tugging on Newt's shirt as if the boy couldn't tell, then looking back at Thomas with that smile, "Thomas is awake!" 

Thomas physically recoiled, Chuck's voice booming in his head like Chuck had just hit him in the head with a shovel, "Inside voices, Chuck," he muttered dryly. 

"Screw you and your bloody inside voices!" Newt yelled, much louder, probably on purpose. Thomas should've known it was coming, but for some reason when Newt smacked him square across the jaw with a force Thomas wasn't quite accustomed to, it still took him by surprise. 

It hurt everywhere, but the guilt of how he had made Newt feel was much, much worse, "Newt-" 

"Save it!" he yelled, slapping him again. He stood there, fuming, "What in the bloody hell were you doing!?" 

"I was-" 

"Save it!" Newt screamed this time, stopping his hand with a shaky inhale before he hit Thomas again, "... It was stupid." he said quietly now, such a contrast to his earlier volume. Now he just looked weak. And without the anger on his face, Thomas could tell he was. Dark circles hung below his eyes and his cheeks were sunken it the slightest bit; he seemed somehow just the tiniest bit thinner and definitely sleep deprived. 

"What happened to you, Newt?" Thomas asked, his heart aching. He wished his body wasn't doing the same so he could caress Newt's pale face. 

"Crazy shank's been in here- only came out about twice while you were in the Changing. He slept in that chair the entire time," Chuck said with a roll of his eyes. "You've been Changing for three days. I don't think he's eaten," Chuck said with a hint of a question, glancing over Newt's shoulder as if he was going to answer. 

Thomas decided to man up and forced his terribly pained body to scoot over a bit, "Lay with me," he said to Newt. He just needed him close. 

Any hint of anger he had left visibly washed away and Newt crawled in beside him and curled right up to him. Thomas let out a relieved breath; his touch was like medicine. Thomas glanced back at Chuck, "Did the Grievers come?" 

Chuck frowned, his happiness coming crashing down, "Yeah. They took Zart and a couple others. Minho and the Runners have been scouring the Maze nonstop trying to find an exit or any way to apply the code to it, but they've got nada." 

Thomas' stomach turned, he knew exactly where it was. "Chuck," he said, quieter now noticing that Newt had dozed off, "can you get me Alby? We need to have a Gathering and we need one quick." 

Chuck frowned, seeming to not want to part with him, but he did, rushing out the door and calling out for Alby. Thomas risked moving his arm that Newt wasn't laying on to rest it on Newt's head, stroking his hair slightly. 'Teresa,' Thomas said; their communication seemed easier now. 

'That was really stupid, Tom. Really, really stupid.' 

'I had to,' he answered. 

'I've pretty much hated you the past couple days, you should've seen yourself. And Newt- Newt looked just as bad as you and never left that freaking room.' 

Thomas didn't really know what to say. He was drowning in guilt, but he glanced down at Newt. He was sleeping softly despite the obvious amount he needed it; it made Thomas smile. 

'So, how much do you remember?' Teresa asked. 

'Enough. And Teresa... What you said about us and what we did to them...' 

'It was true?' 

Thomas looked down at Newt and wrapped his free arm around him as tightly as he'd risk, not wanting to wake him. He wished he could apologize, take it back- take Newt back to wherever it is he used to be. 'We did some bad things, Teresa.' 

'Did you find a purpose for the code?' she asked, not addressing their previous topic any further. 

'Maybe. But it won't be easy, or safe, we're going to have to call a Gathering. I'll ask for you to be there, I just don't have the energy to explain more than once. But don't worry, the Creators meant for us to escape.' 

Loud footsteps could be heard down the hall; Alby's. He wished he'd tread a little quieter, Newt was sleeping. 'I gotta go.' 

'Hurry back,' was all she commented before she cut the connection- just in time, Alby came in, swinging the door open. 

And of course, it woke Newt up. Newt started and scrambled up, looking startled, then just rubbed his exhausted eyes, "Oh man," was all he said, sitting on the bed now. 

Alby pulled up the chair that Newt had been apparently sleeping in, "That was bloody stupid, Thomas. But I know why ya did it; what happened? What'cha got?" 

Newt turned to look at Thomas, trying to look interested, but he was so utterly drained. Thomas glanced between them, "The way out," he said, Newt actually looking interested now. 

"We need to have a Gathering," Thomas added quickly before they could ask anything. He shifted so he was sitting beside Newt; he wasn't so much in pain anymore, just sort of woozy. 

Alby glanced between Newt and Thomas, locking his jaw as he thought things over. He pursed his lips and nodded a little, "Okay. But Newt looks worse than you do, you two should rest for at least an hour." 

Thomas had no objections and Newt was already starting to lay back down. Thomas laid beside him as Alby left and smiled at Newt, "Hey," he said, not really having a chance to speak to him one-on-one since he'd been back. 

"I missed ya, Tommy," Newt said, the hurt in his voice breaking Thomas down. 

Thomas adverted his gaze, "I know, I'm sorry..." 

"You're a bloody idiot," Newt started, taking Thomas' face in his hands, "but what ya did was for us. For all of us. I don't want ya to think I'm encouragin' your recklessness and just flat out bloody idiocy, but don't apologize for doin' something like this." 

Thomas smiled, instantly feeling better like it was a switch that only Newt knew how to work. Newt placed a kiss on Thomas' lips and Thomas didn't realize how much he'd craved it in his absence. Thomas kissed him back heavily and passionately, moving onto him, holding his face in place. 

It wasn't long before Newt placed his hand on Thomas' chest, pushing him back a little, "No, not now," Newt said, "I'm freakin' exhausted." 

Thomas' cheeks burned so bad he felt it in his ears. Newt noticed and smirked, "Later." 

Thomas just laid back down in embarrassment. Newt laughed though, and it forced a smile on Thomas' face. Newt curled up against him, "bloody idiot," Newt muttered happily just before falling asleep. 

Thomas closed his eyes, finding outrageous relief there. He was tired, too. 

There was a whole bunch of bad times ahead with what they had to do; a full-on shit storm, but right now- as they napped together, finding comfort in each other- things were good. And right now, things were going to be just fine.


	31. Chapter Forty-Nine/Fifty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, just got home and it's seven in the evening here. I'm gonna post this update, then do one immediately after, then I'm heading to bed xD 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

Their nap wasn't long at all, but somehow Newt seemed to gain a good amount of energy; within an hour and a half of falling asleep, Thomas sat beside Newt and in front of the other Keepers. They hadn't let Teresa in; Alby's orders. He'd have to retell it to her later. 

"All right Greenie," Alby said, "Get talkin'." 

Thomas, wishing he wasn't so groggy and queasy, forced himself to take a minute and gain his composure. He had a lot to say and wanted to make sure it carried the weight of its own importance in his voice. 

Thomas gave them the gist; they were being tested, The Maze was never meant to be solved, they want survivors for something important, they were taken when they were young, they were geniuses- named after the famous ones, and most importantly; he was a former Creator. 

When he delivered that last bit, he expected chaos- an utter outburst; but silence filled the room. All eyes on him. Newt was the first to finally spoke, "What are you talkin' about, Tommy?" 

"Teresa and I, we're different... We were apart of the Maze trails from the very, very beginning- but against our will, I swear," he said, quickly, not wanting Newt to change his opinion about him.

Newt didn't look satisfied, just more confused, "I need to tell you guys this," Thomas said with a sigh, collecting himself, "Teresa and I- we helped design the Maze. The entire thing." 

Everyone was stunned; blank faces and gaping mouths. "What in the..." Newt started, "anything else, Tommy?" 

"Teresa and I, we helped because we were smart. And we have a gift... They forced us to help," he reminded. The way Newt worded it, it was like a punch to the gut. He wished he could take Newt's hand and drop to his knees, confess and remind his love and how he'd do anything for him. 

Newt shook his head for a moment before looking up at Thomas; and God, there was that freaking spark. "Tommy, the Creators- they did this to us. Not you or Teresa; if you honestly think you bein' forced to help would make us change the way we see ya or trust ya, then you're freakin' nuts." 

"Yeah," Minho chimed in as nods went around the room, "who cares about all that klunk? Let's focus on the important stuff- how we get out of here?" 

A lump formed in Thomas' throat and tears threatened his eyes; he had never been so relieved. Thomas reached over and snatched up Newt's hand, not able to steady himself without him. "There's a computer station in a place we've never looked before- where we have to input the code..."

Thomas took a brief look around and could feel the anticipation. Thomas squeezed Newt's hand and looked into his eyes as he delivered the blow. 

"The Griever Hole."


	32. Chapter Fifty-One/Fifty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah lovlies, we're almost done with Maze Runner!!! (Don't worry, I don't plan on breaking between Scorch Trials- and even if I did, it'd be like a day.)
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Alby stood up so quickly his chair fell backwards, breaking Thomas from the gaze-lock he was stuck in with Newt. 

Much to Thomas' shock, Alby marched forward, stopping short of Thomas as if he was going to attack him, "You're a shuckin' idiot now!" he said, glaring, "or a traitor. You designed the damn place- how can we trust you!? What are you really up to!?" 

Thomas was furious. "What am I up to? Nothing! Why would I make any of this up!?" 

Alby's arms stiffened and he clenched his fists, staring at Thomas with a killer stare. Newt shifted in his chair, staring Alby down even though the leader paid Newt no mind. Thomas was too mad to care; he wanted to fight, bring it on. 

"For all we know, you were sent here to get us killed," Alby growled. 

"Alby," Minho interjected, "that's the dumbest thing you've said all week. He got torn apart three days ago, you think that was an act?" 

Alby nodded. "Maybe." 

"We can't go back!" Alby finally yelled, "I've seen what our lives were like- we don't want to go back!" 

Newt rose to his feet, "Is that what this is about? Are you kiddin' me?" 

Alby turned on him furiously, like a crazed animal- fist in the air to strike Newt down. Thomas' instincts had him on his feet in a minute, but- lucky for Alby- Alby halted, lowered his fist, then sank in his chair. 

Then he put his hands in his face and broke down. 

Shockingly to Thomas, Newt still approached him. If Newt wasn't loyal, no damn person was. "Alby," he said, his voice soft, "come on, tell us what's up." he pressed. 

"I did it," Alby sobbed miserably, "I did it!" 

"Did what?" Newt asked, sounding like a mother consoling their child. So gentle yet persistent; Thomas weirdly found it adorable. 

Alby looked up at Newt, not able to resist Newt when he urged in a voice like that; tears continually rolled down his soaked cheeks, "I burned the Maps. I did it. I slammed my head on the table so you wouldn't think it was me. I burned it all!" 

The Keepers exchanged looks, some of those who had still been tensely sitting rose from their chairs. Everyone shocked. It made sense now, though. Alby saw something bad he didn't want to see, saw the way out- rather, the way to get back to that dreadful place- and made sure, or so he thought, they wouldn't go to it. Thomas' skin crawled as he wondered what could be so bad that he'd rather die here. 

And once again, Newt wasn't mad, he just asked him to explain. "I'm telling you," Alby said, sounding like he was pleading, "I'm tellin' ya Newt, we can't go back there! We need to die here, it's better that way! No Scorch, no disease, nothin'. Please Newt, we need to stay, it's better here!" 

"Are you kidding me?" Minho shouted. He scoffed and fell back in his chair, arms crossed, "I'm with Thomas. I'm with him one hundred percent." 

Alby sighed and stood, "Do what you want," he said, starting towards the door, "doesn't matter, we'll all die anyway." he said, leaving the room with that grim statement in his place. 

Newt let out a long breath and looked so sad for a moment, "he hasn't been the same since he's been stung," he said, staring at something much farther away than where his eyes were pointed. 

Seeing Newt so sad only fed the fire in his heart; he was going to get him out of here, give him a life better than this. "I'm going," Thomas said firmly, "either way. Or I will die trying. Minho's with me, clearly. I know Teresa's in; all we have to do is fight off Grievers long enough to get everyone through. I'll take the chance." 

Newt nodded and stood, "Obviously I'm in." 

Winston protested. And Thomas realized he needed to tell the last part of his plan; "And I was thinking; we've got something going for us. They kill one a night? Maybe they're programmed to only take one now, no matter what. All we need is one." 

Winston scoffed, "Oh yeah? And who'd you have in mind?" 

Thomas crossed his arms, "Me." 

 

The meeting erupted into voices and shouts. Newt grabbed Thomas tightly by the arm and started dragging him to the door, "You're leaving. Now." 

"Leaving? Why?" 

"Think you've caused enough turmoil here. I'll calm 'em down. Wait for me by the Box, we've got some talkin' to do," he spat, then slammed the door after he shoved Thomas out. 

Thomas ripped the door open and grabbed Newt before he disappeared, pulling him out, "Newt, wait." 

Newt turned on him so fast, in his face with some kind of fury he'd never seen on Newt's face /ever/ before, "I loved the bit where ya volunteered to die," he spat sarcastically. 

"I'm willing to do it," Thomas said, losing some resolve. 

"Oh yeah?" Newt retorted, completely enraged, "Mr. Noble, huh?" 

Thomas frowned, "Newt, if it's what has to be done, it'll be done." 

Newt suddenly shoved him, "What the hell is wrong with you?!" he screamed, "why do you get to do that!? Why do you get to make me love you, make me NEED you, and decide you'll just back out- What the bloody hell makes you think you get to die while I suffer a fate worse than dyin'- While I have to live without you?!" 

Thomas stood, eyes wide, not sure what to say. He hadn't thought of it that way. Newt's eyes filled and he shook his head, "I'm goin' back in there... I'm gonna go convince those shanks we're goin'. And that we're fightin' to save every last one of us," he said, a tear rolling down his cheek which he wiped away quickly. 

Guilt racked Thomas' body on a scale he'd never felt before. "Newt," he said, his voice cracking. "Newt, I love you. I'm not going to just sacrifice myself," he blurted, speaking nothing but truth, "I'm gonna fight." he reached out and took Newt's hand, "right beside you." 

Thomas was actually relieved that Newt wanted him to fight. He didn't want to die, and admitting that they would fight and he'd have a chance sent relief through him like a heat wave. Newt sighed and looked down at Thomas' hand, "If you die, I'll never forgive you." He said, turning back to the room without another word. 

Thomas stood, having to catch his breath to keep his tears back. 

What had he done now?


	33. Chapter Fifty-Three/Fifty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on the update today! I felt like crap so I stayed home and slept in for awhile xD 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

When Newt started spotted them, Thomas and Teresa were waiting by the Box. Thomas rose when he saw Newt start over with a limping run and Teresa just watched worriedly; he had told her the plan and about Newt's outburst. 

When Newt made it to them, Thomas just strode forward and hugged him, slamming his lips into Newt's. Newt recoiled, just as taken by surprise as Thomas was. Thomas held him close as he gave him a long, deep kiss. His heart cried out for Newt as if he wasn't right there. When they parted, they both had to catch their breath. Newt's eyes remained closed for a moment before they fluttered open, glanced at Thomas' lips, and then up at him, "What was that for?" 

Thomas frowned, "You know what it was for. I am so, so sorry Newt-" 

Newt laughed and grabbed Thomas' face, "You're gonna fight?" 

Thomas nodded. Newt smiled and shook his head, "then I forgive you, you bloody idiot." 

Thomas almost collapsed with relief; but he didn't, instead he kissed Newt again. This time when they pulled away, Newt put his hand over Thomas' mouth, "Shuck it, Tommy, stop doin' that- you're makin' me forget what I was gonna say." 

Thomas laughed and let go of Newt, not letting go of Newt's hand, "What happened?" Thomas asked as Teresa stood and walked beside them to listen. 

Newt had a little hint of victory in his eyes, "I got them to agree. All of 'em. Wasn't as hard as I thought." Newt looked out over the Glade, "now we just gotta convince the Gladers." 

"You think they'll go for it?" Teresa asked. 

"Not all of them," Newt said, "I guarantee you some of 'em are gonna stay and take their chances." 

"What about Alby?" Thomas asked. 

"Who knows?" Newt answered awfully quickly. "I'm convinced that dumb bugger actually is scared to go home. But don't worry, I'll get his butt with us safe an' sound; just like I always do." 

Thomas couldn't help but smile at Newt's loyalty to his best friend yet again, "Any plans on how you're gonna do that?" 

Newt laughed. "I'll make up some klunk; tell him we'll find a new part in the world where everything's sunshine and rainbows." 

"Maybe we can," Thomas said, "I promised Chuck I'd get him home safe, ya know. Or at least find him a home." 

"Yeah, well, anything's better than here," Teresa said. 

Thomas noticed arguments throughout the Glade; Keepers trying to convince Gladers to go. "So what's next?" Teresa asked after a moment. 

Newt took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, "Figure out who's going. Get ready- Food, weapons, all that. Then we go. I'd put you in charge, Tommy, but I'm pretty sure that'll start a riot. Just lay low, okay? We'll leave the code business to you and Teresa." 

Thomas had no arguments there; he felt the code was his responsibility anyway. Though a moment of panic gripped him as he realized just how much of a responsibility that was. 

Newt nodded, "Good that. Let's get to work." 

***

The next few hours were frantic. 

Most Gladers were going. Even Alby was gonna go; Newt really could work miracles. There were only a few adamant ones who decided they were staying. 

Backpacks were handed out and stuffed full of supplies. Frypan- who even agreed- was in charge of gathering all the food and figuring out a way to distribute it among the packs. Syringes of Grief Serum were included, Chuck was in charge of filling water bottles and handing them out and Teresa helped him. Chuck had been trying to act brave since he agreed to go, but the fear in the boy's eyes spoke much louder. 

Minho and a group of Runners headed to the Cliff to test the Hole; throwing ivy ropes and rocks inside. Newt had said they wait 'till night and hope most of the Grievers were in the Maze- he was right, as usual. Thomas didn't know what was waiting for him in the Hole during the day. When Minho returned, he seemed as optimistic as could be.

Thomas and Newt distributed the weapons to those going. By the end of the day, the Gladers had turned to a small army. A small, pathetic, scared army, but an army all the same. 

While Newt was off preparing Gladers and Keepers, taking questions, and all the crap he was stuck doing since Alby refused to be a leader; Thomas and Teresa were leaned against a tree, talking about their upcoming battle. 

"We need backup, in case something happens to us," Teresa said, watching the Glade stir around. 

Meanwhile, Thomas' eyes were on Newt, "Of course. Minho and Newt know the code words." 

"Not much of a plan, then," she said with a yawn. 

"Not much at all; fight Grievers, punch in the words, escape through the door. Then we deal with the Creators." 

Thomas was nervous. He kept telling himself he had nothing to lose, but as he watched Chuck run up to Newt and ask him something- Newt kneeling to listen, Thomas realized that was the biggest lie he'd ever told himself. Teresa glanced over at what Thomas was looking at, then at him, "they'll be okay. They're brave." 

Thomas nodded, "Yeah." he said with a nod. "They'll be fine."

 

Before the normal Door closing time, everyone headed to the kitchen for one last meal in the Glade. Thomas was seated beside Newt with Chuck across from them. "So... Thomas." Chuck paused to swallow a bite of mashed potatoes and continued, "Who was I nicknamed after?" 

Newt almost choked half from surprise and half from laughter, mirroring Thomas' current feeling; how could this kid ask that a time like this? Thomas shook his head, rubbing Newt's back as he laughed a little, "I dunno, probably Darwin. The one who figured out evolution."

Chuck nodded, seeming proud as if he had done it. He seemed scared, "We can do this, Chuck." Thomas said. 

Chuck nodded. Thomas knew people were going to die; and he was going to make sure Chuck wasn't one of them. Or Newt or Teresa or Minho- Thomas looked over as Alby was calling Gladers to attention, telling everyone it was time to go. To Thomas, it felt sort of weird to see Alby giving orders. Thomas considered Newt as the boss, Alby was a little unfit for the job now-a-days. 

Panic washed over him. This was it. They were going. Newt gripped Thomas' leg under the table and looked up at him with fear in his eyes, "Ya ready?" 

Thomas put his hand on Newt's and held it tightly, "I think so. You?" 

"No," he said through a forced smile, "but I'll go anyway." 

Thomas laughed a little and nodded, giving him a kiss before they stood. Chuck made fake puking noises and Newt threw a carrot at him, making the kid laugh. They threw their packs over their shoulders and headed to the West Door, Thomas wrapping an arm around Newt's waist and holding Newt's hip as they walked, keeping him right against him. Chuck walked on Thomas' other side. 

"You shanks ready?" Minho asked as they approached. 

Teresa seemed nervous, bouncing on her heels, "I'm super anxious to just get this over with." 

"Amen, sister." Minho said. He looked the most confident, fearless even. Thomas envied him.

Newt moved from Thomas' grasp to talk to the Gladers, "There's forty-one of us," he addressed before he even made it all the way to the front, "make sure you've all got your weapons and packs. Other than that, there ain't much to say. Y'all know the plan." 

Thomas noticed Alby off to the side, sulking his way over to his weapons. Thomas thought about the first time he saw Alby- he was so confident and strong then. An odd wave of sorrow punched Thomas in the gut- he was so defeated now. Nothing more than a shell of who he had been. Thomas couldn't believe he missed the old Alby. 

"Shouldn't someone give a pep talk or something?" Minho asked, stopping Newt from returning to Thomas. 

"Go ahead," Newt said. 

"Be careful," Minho said, clearing his throat, "don't die." 

Thomas would've laughed if this was any other time. "Great, we're all bloody inspired." Newt turned, something fierce in his eyes as he pointed over his shoulder at the Maze, "After two years of being treated like mice, tonight we're making a stand. Tonight we're bringing the fight to the Creators. Tonight- The Grievers better be scared." 

And just like, Newt lit the freaking flame of rebellion. Someone cheered, then someone else, then everyone- Thomas included. Newt's words moved him and he suddenly felt invincible, ready for anything. And once again, Thomas was falling in love. That spark in Newt's eyes catching Thomas', just like the first Thomas ever saw him. He was so in love. 

Minho thrust his weapon into the air, cheering himself, then went sprinting into the Maze. Gladers immediately started following, Thomas, Teresa, Newt and Chuck all beside each other. The moment he stepped into the Maze though, he was hit with an almost overwhelming feeling of responsibility for his friends and Newt. 

'You can do this,' he thought, 'just make it to the Hole.'


	34. Chapter Fifty-Five/Fifty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lateness; I ended up going to the store! We're almost done with Maze Runner guys, can you believe it!?!
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

Thomas kept a steady pace with the other Gladers, especially the ones around him; Newt, Teresa and Chuck. Thomas knew where he was going; he'd made this run to the Cliff a couple times now and was used to the Maze in general. Thomas glanced at them, occasionally, Teresa and Chuck seemed to falter at a turn, not sure which way to go until Thomas or Minho or the others went first. Newt though seemed familiar enough with the Maze, but a couple times he slowed a bit, his limp worsening. Thomas would slow for a moment each time. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they reached the long corridor that led to the turn to the Cliff. As they were coming up to the turn, Minho came to a stop and put his hand out instantly; all the Gladers stopping in their place. Thomas reached over and grabbed Newt's arm instinctively, pulling him against him. 

"Oh no," the Keeper muttered, "oh no no no." 

Then Thomas heard the Griever sounds. Newt's eyes shut quickly and he gripped onto Thomas' shirt. There were so many, he could tell just from the sounds. "Dozens, maybe fifteen," Minho whispered. "They're just waiting for us!"

Much to Thomas' dread, Newt moved away from him and up to the front with Alby. "Well, we have to fight." Newt said, making Thomas shudder. 

Thomas moved up to Newt and Minho and Alby when a loud noise cut him off- he swung around and saw them there, a bunch of Grievers. They were on both sides now. The Gladers surged towards Thomas, forming a tight group. Thomas slowly turned in a circle, both sides were waiting. Just waiting. They were utterly surrounded. The Gladers kept huddling back, Thomas ended up pressed between Teresa and Newt. He could feel Newt trembling. "Got any ideas?" Thomas asked Newt. 

"No," he answered, his voice shaking a little, "I have no idea what they're bloody waitin' for."

"We shouldn't have come," Alby said, his voice sounded odd- so hollow and haunted. A long moment pressed before Alby spoke up again, "Maybe I should..." His voice trailed off and he started slowly sauntering towards the Grievers. 

"Alby, get back here- don't!" Newt yelled, throwing himself toward Alby. Right at the last second, Thomas curled his arm around Newt's middle and held him back. 

Instead of answering, he looked back at all of them. His eyes landed on Newt and he smiled- something sad and empty, but somehow geniune. Then he went running right to the Grievers. Newt was bent over Thomas' arm, reaching for Alby, "Alby, don't!" Newt screamed. 

But Alby had already made it the monsters, throwing himself on them. Five or six had already reacted, coming to life with the sound of screaming engines and attacking Alby; ripping him up. Thomas had to grab Newt by the arms with both of his when Newt started struggling and trying to throw himself over, "Let go!" Newt cried out. 

Thomas forced Newt to face him and shook him briefly and strongly, making Newt stop struggling, "There's nothing you can do, Newt!" Thomas shouted, then softened, "he's gone. Just don't look." 

Newt looked up at Thomas for a moment before gritting his teeth and flinching as if he'd just been struck before falling into Thomas, burying his face in Thomas' chest. But when the sounds of ripping skin and splattering blood, Newt turned half way around. Newt's eyes widened and he gripped Thomas' arms. Newt briefly tried again, but then just collapsed onto his knees, utter hopelessness on his face. 

Thomas helped steady Newt to his feet; Newt just wouldn't stop staring at the spot where Alby disappeared. "I can't believe it," Newt whispered, voice shaky, "I can't believe he just..." 

Thomas just shook his head and held on to Newt. He couldn't believe it other. A new kind of pain twisted Thomas' insides; not physical, but so much deeper. He'd never much liked Alby, but somewhere along the way he had become family. And now he was gone. 

Minho moved over to Newt and Thomas, gripping Newt's shoulder, "We can't waste what he did." He turned towards Thomas, "we'll fight 'em if we have to, make a path for you to the Hole. Get in there, do what you got to do, and we'll keep them away from you until you scream for us to follow." 

"Hopefully they'll go dormant for awhile, we should only need a minute to punch in the code." Thomas said with a nod. 

"How can you guys be so heartless?..." Newt murmured, his voice making Thomas' heart ache. 

"What do you want, Newt? You want us to dress up and have a shucking funeral?" Minho snapped, making Thomas wish Minho would just back off. 

Newt didn't respond, just stared at the place where the Grievers had literally torn Alby apart. Minho continued, softer this time; "Look. Alby didn't want to go home. He scarified himself so we could. We'd really be heartless if we wasted that." 

Newt only shook his head and shrugged a little. 

Thomas moved, side-stepping into Newt's line of vision so he couldn't see his best friend's blood smeared on the ground. Thomas put one hand on Newt's cheek, "Look at me." 

Newt sighed and looked up. Thomas pressed his lips against him softly. "I love you, Newt. And I know you've lost someone important to you, but I'm here for you. I'm always gonna be, just hold onto that. For me, okay? I just love you so much." 

Newt glanced down, a half smile and small blush finding his face, "I love ya too, Tommy." 

Minho smiled, then turned to the group of Gladers, "Listen up! Number one priority is to protect Thomas and Teresa- make sure they get to that Hole-" 

The Grievers revved to life, cutting Minho off. If that wasn't bad enough, they started moving towards the Gladers- all in unison. They crawled towards them oh so slowly. Thomas pulled Newt against him, and realized what everyone else did: 

Alby's sacrifice had been an utter failure. 

 

In a panic, Thomas grabbed Minho's arm, "I have to get over there somehow!" 

Newt and Minho exchanged glances, "You lead," Newt said after a minute. 

Minho nodded once, then turned to the Gladers, "We head straight for the Cliff! Fight through the middle, making a freaking path for Thomas and Teresa- push the Grievers to the wall! The only thing that matters is getting them there safely!" 

Thomas took a deep breath. He looked over at Newt, "What're you gonna do?" 

Newt grinned, "What else am I gonna do, Tommy? I'm gonna fight." 

Thomas frowned. 

"Ready!" Minho yelled. 

Thomas' heart started racing. He grabbed Newt's face firmly and forced a long, desperate kiss on him. "Be careful," he whispered against Newt's lips. They locked their eyes, saying all they needed to, then pulled apart reluctantly. 

"Now!" 

Minho sprinted forwards, Newt right on his heels. And Thomas watched him go, praying that he'd see him again shortly. A tight pack of roaring boys followed. Thomas took Teresa's hand and started after them. On the way, Chuck stumbled backwards. Chuck looked back at Thomas with such fear in his face, Thomas' heart broke. He reached out and led Chuck towards Teresa, "Take her hand, you're coming with us." he said strictly. 

The moment they saw the opening, they sprinted. Thomas pulled Teresa behind him, her pulling Chuck behind her. War raged around them as they ran, Glader's fighting with everything they had. Screams, metal clashing against metal, saws spinning, claws clasping, yells of help. 

The Cliff was only twenty feet away now. He felt blood spray across his shoes, followed by an awful screech. Thomas only dipped his head and ran harder, praying it wasn't Newt. As they ran, groups of Gladers ran at their sides, fighting the Grievers off. 

Thomas skidded to a halt as he made it to the Cliff. In a split second, Thomas surveyed the area; ivy ropes stretching out from the Hole- a genius idea on the Runner's part. "You first, Teresa." 

To his surprise, she didn't hesitate. She squeezed Thomas' hand, then Chuck's shoulder, then jumped. She disappeared, she made it. "Woah!" Chuck yelled. 

Thomas nodded, "You're next." 

Thomas grabbed under Chuck's arms, "Push off with your legs, I'll give you the air you need. Ready? One... Two.. Three!" 

Chuck screamed as he was thrown; he almost missed the spot, but he made it. Seeing him do it, being so brave, something solidified in Thomas' heart. He loved him so much, like they had come from the same mother. 

Thomas steeled his own resolve; and he saw them again- memories. Newt's smile, his laugh, that spark in his eye, the way he looked when his face was red or the way he clung onto Thomas more often than not. His heart fluttered and he gripped that feeling, the utter love he felt for him, and he used it.

He jumped.


	35. Chapter Fifty-Seven/Fifty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, I ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAY: We are indeed reaching the end of this one!! Which means Scorch Trials is coming up, but here's the thing- I have no idea what to title it XD I could use some suggestions XD "Finding Something Here" was obviously named for them, ya know, falling in love. And Scorch Trials should be something along the lines of holding onto their love or each other or something. So, if you have a good idea, please let me know! I'll pick whichever one (if there's more than one suggestion) that I think best fits; and depending on how much I update today, if I don't finish too quickly and if there's enough, I MAY put it to a vote; we'll see how it goes :) 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or the characters!***

Cold crawled up Thomas' entire body as he made it through the Hole. 

When he opened his eyes, still falling, he was gripped terror at the sudden utter darkness. When his feet hit the ground, it was slick and they shot right out from under him. When he fell back, he landed in Teresa and Chuck's arms, they helped him stand and Thomas was utterly shocked he hadn't stabbed someone in the eye with his spear. 

Teresa's flashlight was the only reason Thomas' could see anything at all. Thomas was finally starting to catch his breath; he realized they were in a ten-foot-high cylinder. It was slick with slime; Griever slime. 

"Tom, the computer," Teresa said, shining her light down a couple feet. 

It was an old, dirty little thing. It's screen was a dull green, doing nothing for illumination. Beneath it, a keyboard was set into the wall, angled out to be typed on. "Put the words in!" Chuck urged. 

Thomas nodded to the computer, "Teresa, you do it. Chuck and I'll keep watch." 

She nodded and jogged over to the computer. A loud bang from above made her feet halt and she swung around. Chuck moved towards Thomas and Thomas wrapped an arm around him protectively. His eyes widened as he saw a Griever squeeze itself through the hole, landing into the Hole with a plop. Thomas pushed Chuck behind him and holding out his spear, keeping a hand behind him to keep Chuck back. "Type it in, Teresa!" 

A thin metal blade retracted from its back and headed straight for Thomas' face, three spinning blades unfolding from it. It came at him fast, he waited. He felt Chuck's little hand grip the bottom of Thomas' shirt nervously, still he waited. When it was only a foot away from mangling his face he swung his spear up and around, bringing it crashing down on the metallic limb with every ounce of strength he had. 

The angle sent it to the side at an incredible speed and the deadly appendage slammed into the Griever's body. The Griever let out an angry shriek, spikes retracted. Thomas heaved breaths in and out. 'I can hold it off, just hurry!' Thomas said. 

'Almost done!' 

The spikes pierced back out, a menacing, angry vibe coming from the monster. It rose its claw, snapping angrily, shooting it at Thomas. Instinct switched on like a light in every one of Thomas' cells, nerves, fibers- he swung his spear straight over his head and brought it crashing down straight from above this time. It made such an impact, the fingers on the claw stuttered and almost broke. Then there was a disgusting squelch followed by a crash. Thomas hit the arm so hard it ripped right from its nasty socket. 

The Griever's piercing shriek made Thomas recoil, then its spikes disappeared. "These things are beatable!" Thomas shouted. 

'It won't let me enter the last word!' Teresa shouted in his mind. 

Thomas barely heard her as he charged toward the Griever. Thomas took advantage of the creatures weakness and jumped on it, his feet sinking a bit. With reflexes and a concentrated control he didn't know he had, he swung two stuttering arms away from him, spinning the spear so it was pointed downward. He braced every one of his muscles and thrust the spear down onto the monster. 

It's skin burst, a yellow goo splattering from its wound. He kept pushing until the spear would go no deeper, then half-slipped and half-jumped off the Griever, running to Chuck, firmly grasping the shoulder of his shirt and running over to Teresa. He looked over his shoulder, watching as the thing twitched spastically, its arms swinging and crashing into itself. Eventually, it slowed to a stop. He did it. He defeated it. 

"You killed it," Chuck said, utterly astonished. 

"What's the problem?" Thomas asked, remembering Teresa. 

"I put in all the words and they disappeared right after I typed them in with a beep, but it won't let me type in the last word! PUSH won't work!" she said, panicked. 

"Thomas!" Chuck's shrill voice sounded. Thomas turned to see Chuck pointing at another Griever squirming in from the Hole. The appearance of another one worried him; where the Gladers okay? Newt? 

Another came in after that one, both heading that way. Thomas didn't know what to do, just held onto Chuck when the boy ran over to him and gripped him. His will was fading. It was supposed to work, the code was supposed-

"Maybe you push the button." Chuck said. 

Thomas faltered and looked down at Chuck. Chuck pointed at a spot near the floor, right underneath the keyboard. Teresa crouched, Thomas joined her. A small red button was set into the wall, he couldn't believe he had missed it; 

"KILL THE MAZE" 

Thomas was snapped out of his stupor when two arms of a Griever had him and were dragging him backwards. One got Chuck and was about to kill him with a long blade. 

A button. There was a button. 

"Push!" Thomas screamed at the very top of his lungs; louder than he'd ever had, louder than Newt or Alby or any of the Gladers while they fought of the Gladers. It was almost too loud to be human. 

And Teresa did. 

She pushed the button and everything went utterly silent. Then, from somewhere down the dark tunnel, a door slid open. 

 

The Grievers shut down at that instant. Thomas and Chuck fell to the floor as the instruments were sucked back into their bodies. Their revving stopped, no mechanical surges, nothing. 

Thomas gasped, then laughed, then choked on a sob before laughing again. 

Chuck had scooted back and bumped into Teresa; she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him so tight. "You did it Chuck! We didn't even notice!" 

Thomas laughed again, "She's right!" he cried out happily, scrambling to his feet and joining them in a group hug, "you're a shucking hero, Chuck!" 

"What about the others?" Teresa said, nodding towards the Hole. 

As if to answer her questions, someone fell through, legs flailing and kicking until they hit the ground with a solid 'oomph'. Thomas scrambled over to the boy, hoping to see Newt- it was Minho, bloody and tired. "Minho! Are you okay? Where's everybody else?" 

Minho scrambled into a sitting position, startled, then calmed, gripping Thomas' shoulder, "We lost so many..." he panted, "It's a bloody mess up there... then they all jsut-- ... shut down." 

Another boy came flailing through, squeaking as he did, then yelped when he slammed rather hard into the ground. It was Newt. Thomas didn't even fight the tears that swelled and slipped over his cheeks. He laughed and crawled on all fours over to Newt just as Newt was pushing himself up. They both paused the moment their eyes caught and took a moment to look at each other- just look. Newt looked awful; bloody, panting, sweating, his hair a mess and his clothes had various rips all over them, but he had never looked so beautiful to Thomas. 

When they had snapped out of their moment of shock or euphoria or whatever that was, Thomas slammed into Newt, wrapping him in a hug so hard Newt lost whatever support he had made for himself and they rolled on the ground, desperately gripping one another, "You're okay," Thomas whispered into the crook of Newt's neck, holding him tighter than he ever had before, "thank God you're okay." 

"You did it, you bloody did it," Newt muttered, his voice cracking with the dry sobs that racked his thin, hurt little body. 

Thomas and Newt just laid there, Thomas on his back and Newt on top of him, both hugging harder than before, both burying their faces into the other. As they laid there, Frypan came through, then Winston, then some others. Twenty-one Gladers in all. All of them looked just as bad as Newt and Minho. 

Thomas finally decided he should get up, pulling Newt up with him, "The rest?" he asked. 

When they stood, Thomas still hugged Newt, not ready to let go yet, "Half of us," Newt said, voice weak and utterly exhausted, "Dead." 

Every one was quiet for a long time. 

"Ya know what?" Minho spoke up after a bit longer, "half of us died, but half of us lived. And no one got stung- let's get the shuck out of here." 

Thomas felt bad to admit it, but Minho was right. And Thomas was having a hard time calming the elevation in his heart upon seeing Newt. Newt nodded, "Let's get out of here, now." 

Thomas nodded down the tunnel, "A door opened down that way," he said. 

Minho headed down first, Newt ushering other Gladers to follow. "I'll go last," Thomas said. 

Chuck, then Teresa, then Thomas and Newt walked side-by-side, hands locked tightly. After a minute or two, he heard a shriek, then they faded as if they were falling. Murmurs made their way through the line. Teresa looked back at Newt and Thomas, "Looks like it ends with a slide up here," she said. 

One by one, Gladers slid. Chuck, then Teresa. Newt frowned, "This is gonna suck isn't it?" 

Thomas nodded, "Probably. You're up." 

Newt frowned and looked down it for only a moment before slipping in, an almost cheerful shriek following him. Thomas couldn't fight the little laugh, that is, until he approached the slide. Thomas took a deep breath; if everyone else could do it, so could he. Not to mention, Newt went- Thomas would follow him anywhere. 

Thomas slid himself down, taken by utter shock and not being able to hold back his own scream- the slide was slick as ice with goo, making Thomas shudder. The oily goop smelled awful- like badly burnt plastic and exhaust. Thomas found himself terrified, trying to slow himself or something by bracing his hands in front of him- it didn't work at all. He managed to plant his feet in front of him which gave him a false sense of control, since he was still slipping madly. 

The slide took a sudden steepness and Thomas felt sick. He felt crying or puking, but didn't dare shift in anyway. Just as he was going to crane his head to the side and lose it, Newt screamed. A second later, Thomas flew out and landed right on Newt. His eyes fluttered as he looked around, Gladers moaning and whining and looking just as sick as him as they got up and scrambled off each other with small apologies and sad whines. 

Thomas scrambled off Newt and moved away from the others to empty his stomach, his entire body shuddering violently as he vomited. He felt Newt's hand on his back and relaxed under his touch. Trembling from the feeling, Thomas sat up, wiping his mouth. He finally looked around, reaching behind him and taking Newt's hand as he angled so he was facing the same way as Newt, eyes wide. 

They were in a huge underground chamber- covered in all kinds of machinery. Glass doors and pods, like coffins. His head spun and he squeezed Newt's hand to steady himself. 

"Look!" Someone shouted, but Thomas had just seen it. 

Directly in front of them, dark tinged windows- about twenty or so- stretched around the compound. Behind each one, men and women sat observing the Gladers, staring with squinted eyes. 

And something burned in him, fighting for dominance with the fear. These were them- the scum responsible for so many deaths, for Newt's limp, Alby's death, the Gladers two long years of terror and torture- 

It was really them. 

The Creators.


	36. Chapter Fifty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it snowing where any of you guys are?? If I haven't already asked you, where do YOU guys live?? I live in Washington state and the snowing has begun... I miss the rain already. 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Thomas was taking a step back before he knew it, pushing Newt behind him and keeping one hand secured onto the boy's clothes. The silence was so heavy, as were these people's flickering glances. They all wore the same clothes, all so thin, all so ghostly. 

"Who are these people?" Chuck whispered, backing up so he was closer to Thomas. Thomas used his free hand to reach over and place a hand on Chuck's shoulder. 

"The Creators," Minho spat. "I'm gonna break your faces!" he shouted, the sound so blaring after the silence Thomas thought he was going to go deaf. 

"What do we do?" Thomas asked. "What are they waiting for?" 

A loud, slow beeping sound came from everywhere, booming off the walls terribly. For some reason, everyone looked at Thomas for the answer. He'd only remembered so much, and now, he was just as clueless. And absolutely terrified. As everyone else. One of the doors swung open and everyone looked that way, Thomas clutched onto Newt and pushed him farther behind him. 

Then two people walked through. 

One was a woman, an actual grown-up. As she walked towards the group, she neither smiled nor frowned. She seemed familiar, but Thomas couldn't quite put his finger on it. No names came to him and he didn't know how he knew her, but he was certain he must've known something about her. She stopped several feet in front of the Gladers and turned to face them. 

The other person was a boy, a big hoodie over his head, concealing his face in darkness. 

"Welcome back." The woman finally said, "Amazing. After two years and so few of you dead." 

Thomas felt anger flare to life in his chest, his face burn. How could she say that? 

"Excuse me?" Newt snapped, Thomas wasn't able to hold him back- he stepped forward, fists clenched. 

She looked at Newt with the flattest expression, "Everything has gone as plan, Mr. Newton. Although, we expected more of you to give up along the way." 

Newt looked like he wanted to say something else, but the woman reached over and pulled the hood off her companion. Newt faltered and took a step or two back as gasps filled the room and he stood beside Thomas, mouth agape. 

It was Gally. 

Gally's eyes looked conflicted and just miserable, focusing intently on the floor- soaked with tears. "What's he doing here!" Minho shouted. 

"Be at ease, you are safe now." The woman said calmly. 

Minho barked a bit more, but Newt elbowed him. "Gally, what's going on?" and there it was again; Newt's gentle, caring tone. 

Gally looked at him, shook his head and there seemed to be something off with him, more than there had been before. The woman nodded, looking pleased. "Someday, you'll all be grateful for what we've done for you. Accept it. If you don't, the entire thing was a mistake. Dark times, Mr. Newton, dark times." She paused, "there is, of course, one last variable."

Gally started trembling, his red eyes standing out against his white skin terrifyingly. His lips pressed together and twitched, as if he was trying to say something. "Gally?..." Thomas asked, not sure what to say. 

"They... can... control me..." he let out a sound like a whimper, his entire body shaking harder, "I... have... to..." finally, he relaxed. And it was just like Alby, back in the bed. 

Gally reached behind himself and pulled something long and deadly from behind. A twisted looking dagger. He reared it back and threw it at Thomas with comprehensible speed. Thomas froze, hearing two shouts to his right, then movement towards him. 

Chuck was there, diving in front of him. 

With a wet thunk, the dagger found home in Chuck's chest. The boy screamed and hit the floor, his body already convulsing. Chuck let out strangled whimpers as he kicked his feet aimlessly, dark blood oozing from his wound. Red slid from the corner of his mouth- and that was when Thomas' world came crashing down. Thomas dropped to the ground, ignoring the pain in his knees from how hard he hit. He pulled Chuck into his arms, already trembling from the sobs that were sure to come. 

"Chuck!" he screamed, his throat burning, "Chuck!!" 

The boy shook everywhere, blood wetting Thomas' hands. Chuck's eyes- the ones that had always been so full of admiration and happiness and child-like fear- had rolled into the back of Chuck's head. "Thom...mas." the boy whispered, bloody lips barely parting for the words. 

"Hang on, Chuck," Thomas begged, sobbing now. The boy was clinging to life, finally relaxed in Thomas' arms. Thomas stayed still while holding him, praying to God that the boy wasn't in too much pain. 

"Thomas," Chuck whispered, "Find... my mom. Tell her- ..." 

And with one last breath, Chuck's body went still. 

No one had to tell Thomas it was never moving again. 

Thomas let out a broken gasp, shaking his head as he looked over Chuck's face. 'Smile again,' he thought, 'keep talking. God Chuck, annoy me out of my mind. Make a stupid joke. Tease me about Newt- insult me, laugh, smile- please.' 

But nothing happened. Thomas thought there was supposed to some sort of surrealism when something like this happens, that the utter, painful realization was supposed to hit you later. So why was it crushing him and tearing him apart now? 

Thomas slowly put Chuck down, he felt Newt's hand on his shoulders and Thomas swung away, hugging the standing boy and sobbing into his stomach. He felt Newt's body shudder with sobs as well, but Newt still hugged Thomas' head. Newt's warmth was the only thing he wanted right now, he wanted everyone else to go away. He wanted this cold, darkness in his heart to go away. 

And it did, when something else nestled there- a seed of rage. Of hate. 

It grew fast. 

Suddenly, Thomas thought about Gally. He rose to his feet, took a long look at Newt's tear-soaked face. Then Minho's shocked, sad one. Then Teresa's face she had covered with her hands as she cried. Gally killed Chuck and hurt everyone else he loved in the process. 

Thomas turned on his heels and dashed to Gally, crashing into him, all tooth and nails. He found Gally's throat and squeezed with an intent to kill. Everything Gally had done, everyone he loved that Gally had hurt, Chuck. He'd kill Gally here and now, for them. He held Gally pressed to the ground by the boy's neck with one hand while the other sent punch after punch soaring into him. 

And then he was being pulled away by Minho and Newt. Thomas suddenly calmed, thinking only of Chuck. He shook himself from their grip and ran to Chuck, then recoiled as if he hadn't seen the dead boy already. He fell to his knees and cried in his hands, muttering Chuck's name and 'no's over and over again. Surely, this couldn't be real. 

Teresa was there, putting her arm around him. He shook her away, "I promised him!" he shouted, "I promised him I'd save him, that I'd take him home! I promised!" he screamed. 

Thomas scooped up the boy and squeezed him tight, as if that would bring him back. Or show thanks for him saving his life, for being his friend. Or make him smile again. Thomas already missed the one boy who wanted to be his friend, he wanted him back. He wanted his best friend back. 

And as Thomas realized he'd never have his friend back again- would truly never see that smile or hear that laugh- he let out a miserable scream before just laying on the ground, holding Chuck's body, his corpse, as he wept like never before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it ended up being a single update, guys! I ended up having to go :/ HOPE YOU ENJOYED ANYWAYS.


	37. Chapter Sixty/Sixty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add the very last chapter on, but this one ran kinda long, haha XD   
> So I am going to do some chores and homework, then add on that VERY. LAST. chapter of Maze Runner- !!! We did it!!!!- and then do some homework before starting Scorch Trials!!!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!!!***

With Newt's hands on his back, he somehow managed to reign it back in. Shove his sobs and pain somewhere deep in his heart. He'd need to talk this out with Newt later or it'd break him, he knew it would. It was already starting to crumble his resolve. But could he really be blamed? Chuck had become something for him. A symbol of innocence and childhood; dreading the alarm clock in the mornings, having breakfast before school, being a kid. 

But now Chuck was gone. If he didn't have Newt, he would've given up right there. 

Thomas took a deep breath, finally allowing himself to put Chuck down. He kept that pain at bay; for Newt and Minho and Teresa. Whatever Hell was coming up was something they'd need to face together, and he wasn't going to let them suffer at the loss of the old Thomas. 

Thomas wiped the tears from his eyes and accepted the hand Newt was offering. Thankfully Newt was strong, because Thomas let him do most of the work as Thomas stood. When Thomas was on his feet, he and Newt kept their hands locked. He looked at Newt and saw his red nose and cheeks, but the tears were gone; he must've wiped them off in a hurry. Thomas felt a little bad that no one else had the chance to fall apart over Chuck, but there'd be time to grieve. He hoped. 

"All things happen for a purpose," the WICKED woman said, "you must understand this." 

Thomas concentrated everything into a glare and shot it at her as if it would solidify into a weapon and kill her where she stood. Much to Thomas' dismay, nothing happened. 

Suddenly, there were shouts and commotion from outside the entrance. Something woke back up inside Thomas; a drive to fight and, more importantly, protect. He pulled Newt behind him as the woman's face drained. Several men and women in soaking wet, dirty clothes came in- yelling and screaming and waving rifles and pistols. 

Thomas watched in terror as one of the men tackled the WICKED woman to the ground and pointed his rifle at her, holding it firm as he aimed. 

Thomas felt Newt scurry behind Thomas and grip him. He was hiding. It made Thomas remember they were just kids- scared, confused kids. Thomas had to fight the urge to just hold Newt and cry over the whole damn situation. 

Thomas flinched at each shot. She was quite dead- mangled and bloody. 

A man walked up to the Gladers while the others in the group went throughout the compound, sweeping their guns left and right- shattering the observation windows and killing the spectators behind them. "We don't have time to explain," he said, "just follow me and run like your life depends on it. Because it does." 

The man turned and motioned to his companions, yelling briefly before they turned and started running out. The Gladers followed after the briefest hesitation. Thomas and Newt ran, hand-in-hand. 

They ran through another set of glass doors, they were outside. The real outside. The leader didn't stop until they reached a large, dented bus. Rain was coming down hard and Thomas almost wished they could stop and enjoy it. He at least wished he could remember the last time it rained. 

They entered, one-by-one, all rushed. Thomas positioned Newt in front of him, letting him climb the stairs first. As Thomas stood, waiting for Newt to get on, the rain ran over his face. There was something about it that made him feel so much stronger- like he used to. He hadn't realized how numb he felt about Chuck's death until now. He tested it out, thinking about Newt. When that blissful assault of sparks hit his chest he almost cried- he never wanted to be numb again. 

Newt was finally able to climb up the three steps, Thomas about to step on the first when a hand suddenly slammed against his shoulder, gripping his shirt. He cried out as someone jerked him backwards, tearing his hand from Newt's. Newt swung around just in time as he was slammed against the ground. Thomas saw Newt leap off the steps for a moment, but it was blocked out when a woman's head appeared no more than two inches above him. 

Greasy hair hung down in thin strands, brushing on Thomas' face. She smelled rotten- her skin was covered in awful sores that oozed consistently. 

"Gonna save us all!" she screamed, freezing Thomas in terror, "Gonna save us from the Flare!" 

The woman yelped when Newt crashed into her, the two falling to the ground. The moment Newt saw her, he recoiled and started scrambling back as she started crawling forward. Thomas started that way, but a rescuer had already marched over, grabbed the crazed woman with both hands and dragged her several feet from the bus. Newt scrambled over to Thomas and Thomas gripped him like he never had before, they held onto each other as they watched the rescuer point his gun at her, "Stay still or I'll shoot ya dead!" he looked at them, "you two-on the bus!" 

Thomas would be damned if he stayed out there for another second. He and Newt rushed onto the bus and down the aisle. They found an empty seat and Thomas ushered Newt to the inside of the seat. They sat, gripping each other and huddled right up against each other. "Are you okay?" Newt asked. 

Thomas nodded, "Yeah. I have no idea what that was, but yeah. I think I'm okay. Are you?" He asked, cupping Newt's face in his hands, "why would you charge into that thing!?" 

Newt closed his eyes at the touch, "Well, it was attackin' ya." He grinned, "and I had no idea it'd be so gross..." 

Thomas smiled for the first time since Chuck and held Newt, noticing a woman- one of the rescuers- sat across from them. She cranked up the engine and grabbed the wheel, the bus rolling forward. The woman who had attacked Thomas before ran along side the bus, screaming and flailing her arms wildly. She made for the front of the bus and much to Thomas' shook, the driver ran her right over. 

Thomas and Newt exchanged shocked, sickened looks, but didn't say a word. Neither did the driver, just drove on. 

 

The driver drove at a reckless speed. Newt remained silent at Thomas' side, seeming to never blink. Thomas wished he could calm him, soothe him. But distracting him with a long, deep kiss seemed inappropriate on a bus full of people. Finally, Thomas got the nerve to speak to the woman driving, "What's going on?" 

"That's a very long story," she said softly, kindly. 

"Please," Newt begged, "Please, tell us somethin'." 

The woman eyed Newt curiously, then glanced between Thomas and Newt. The woman glanced back at the road, "It'll take awhile for you to get your memories back, if ever. We're not scientists, we have no idea what they did to you or how." 

"Who are they?" Thomas asked, fighting the sadness of thinking he may never get his memories back. 

"It started with the sun flares," she said, staring off. 

Newt started to question, but Thomas shushed him. "Let her talk," he whispered right into Newt's ear, "she seems like she will." 

Newt nodded and returned his attention to her, as did Thomas. 

And she did talk. She told them, never looking at them, about the sun flares. Apparently, massive, unpredictable sun flares spiked higher and higher. And when they hit the Earth, thousands died instantly. Millions within days. Miles and miles became wastelands. And then a sickness came- with destroyed ecosystems, the sickness couldn't be controlled. It's called the Flare and only the richest could be treated. No one could be cured. Although, rumors in the Andes suggest otherwise. They were chosen, the Gladers, for a test. The test was finding the best people to beat the Flare. The Flare destroyed humanity- all in the brain. The only reason these people hadn't made for the Andes yet was the miles and miles of "Scorch" between them and the Andes. 

When the woman finished speaking, Thomas looked to Newt. He simply shook his head and laid it on Thomas' shoulder, closing his eyes. "I just wanna be safe for awhile," Newt mumbled. 

"Maybe we are," Thomas replied. 

It wasn't long before he heard Newt's soft sounds of sleep. Thomas envied him, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that easily. But listening to Newt sleep was nice, calming even. 

Two hours later, the bus stopped. 

They were ushered into a building with several rows of windows. The followed the rescuers to a huge dormitory with a series of lined bunk beds along the walls. Thomas and Newt took it in with wide eyes, it had been so long since Thomas had seen something like this- Hell, he couldn't even remember when it was. Thomas found his heart rate speeding at the change in color he was used to; bright colors along the walls seemed unreal compared to those of the Glade. 

Their rescuers left the Gladers in the hands in a smaller group of adults, smiling. 

The colors. The beds. The staff. Thomas felt an impossible happiness- darkness nagged him in the back of his mind, but for now, he'd forget it. 

Beds were assigned and they were shown to the bathroom to shower. Thomas almost had a heart attack when he felt someone slip into his stall with him just moments after he had gotten in, but was relieved to see Newt there, wet hair pressed onto his face and dripping with the soft beams of water cascading over it. He smiled, pink cheeks and big brown eyes. Thomas returned the smile, because as long as he could keep that image in his head forever, things were going to be fine. 

When they were dressed in fresh clothes, they were given pizza. Real pizza. Him and the Gladers devoured it gladly. Everyone was smiling, laughing. The atmosphere was amazing. 

After dinner, it was time for bed. And no one- especially not Thomas- argued. 

Thomas laid back on the soft mattress and smiled sleepily, Newt right above him. Thomas smirked, though, when he heard Newt slowly crawling off his bed. Before Newt had even finished getting down, Thomas scooted over to make room for Newt on the inside of the bed. When Newt was all comfortable, and Thomas was holding him, he shut his eyes. The boys didn't say a thing, didn't need to. Thomas just held him, smiling into Newt's hair that smelled strongly of sweet shampoo. 

'I love you,' Thomas thought, too tired to say it. He dripped into the thickest sleep he ever had- for once, he was falling asleep with the confidence of safety and his heart and stomach full. 

Thomas knew this was how he wanted things to be. For him, and Newt, and all his friends. And he wished Chuck was there, too, but he'd savor it enough for the both of them.


	38. Chapter Sixty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST. CHAPTER. (Needless to say, I'm not doing the epilogue which was that document-thing.)
> 
> This has been awesome, you guys. Seriously. I think, right now, I have 1,697 hits, 158 comments, and 124 kudos. So to everyone who went through this entire work, left comments, kudos, or just read consistently- I cannot thank you enough :') I hope whoever is sticking with this to Scorch Trials and then onto Death Cure will continue to comment, leave kudos and read. You guys are so great, it's because of you I kept this up, and just thanks a lot, I had a really good time with it and hope you did, too. :) Love you all so so so so much!! First chapter of Scorch Trials will be posted this evening!!   
> THANK YOU ALL, I LOVE YOU. 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Maze Runner or any of the characters!***

Thomas and Newt laid wrapped in each other. Minho and Frypan were in the bunk right beside them. Thomas found that sleeping didn't stay once it had come, so he laid awake while everyone else slept. Teresa had been moved, he talked to her briefly, but when the conversation wandered to Chuck, he couldn't keep it up... 

Thomas sniffled after the conversation had been cut off. No one awoke. 

Well not right away.

Newt turned to look at Thomas, rubbing his tired eyes, "Tommy?" he asked, his accent heavier with sleep. 

Thomas wiped away a tear or two and smiled, shifting to make it easier for Newt to roll over so he was facing Thomas. Once he was, he frowned a little and held Thomas' face, "Tommy... Talk to me," he whispered. 

Thomas looked down, shaking his head a little. "It's just... Chuck- I just, I promised him ya know?" 

"I know," Newt said, "but look at me." 

Thomas did as told, not sure what to expect. "What Chuckie did, he did for you. Cause he wanted you, and us, to get somewhere in this life. He made the decision that your life was more important, more worth being lived, than his. Please, Tommy... Don't waste that." 

Thomas stared wide-eyed as more tears rolled down his cheeks. He smiled a little, a small laugh escaping his lips that broke with sobs. Newt just had a way of making things better. Newt pressed a kiss against Thomas' lips and Thomas returned it eagerly. When they parted, Newt smiled sleepily, "I wonder what tomorrow'll be like." 

"Like this, I hope." Thomas said, pushing Newt's still-damp locks out of his face. "But I guess we'll find out in a couple hours." 

Newt nodded and yawned, "Get some sleep, Tommy." 

Newt had read his mind- Thomas was finally exhausted. Again. Thomas scooted down a bit so he could lay his head on Newt's chest tonight. He just wanted to fall asleep to Newt's heartbeat. Newt didn't mind, pressing his lips against the top of Thomas' head, hugging Thomas' head. Thomas shut his tired eyes and smiled as Newt's heartbeat became the only song he ever wanted to hear. 

Thomas fell asleep, wishing he could stay that way forever.


End file.
